#it’s been SO long but yes i’m still working on it!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f0point5 · 13 hours

Note

Did Max’s P2 mean that Emilia didn’t make to Miami since crazy stuff happens when she isn’t at the race? (I mean I consider it pretty crazy that Max didn’t win)

As a consolation prize could we get Max and Emilia being domestic? Would love to see them just going on their normal life and being in love 🥺

I am sooo sorry this took so long! I went through an inspiration drought after Miami but I am BACK! I’m sorry this didn’t end up being a comfort post-Miami but I hope you like it anyway!!!

Edit: you know what, in my head she was in Miami because honestly I think she and Max would be really happy about Lando’s win. I don’t think they’d take it anywhere near as hard as Max fans lol. He’s their son, they love him.

✨Set between the China and Miami GPs ✨

I (vow) I (will) always be yours

Quiet Sundays in your household are a rarity. If it’s not a race, it’s an event, or time spent on a plane to get to the factory for some work. But not today.

Today Max was woken at nearly midday by Jimmy standing on his head instead of his alarm. He’d had a leisurely breakfast with you out on the terrace. Now, he was practicing for his upcoming sim race while you went through the kitchen cupboards to make a shopping list.

He turned around in his sim rig to sneak a glance at you. Max never lied when he told you that you looked incredible at all the events you went to. He still loses his breath every time he sees you dressed to the nines in haute couture, his palms still sweat and he still never quite feels worthy, because who could be. But he never loves looking at you more than when you’re home, not bothering with anything but your own comfort.

Now, wearing just that Alpha Tauri hoodie that you’d been stealing from him forever, hair in a ponytail, holding a lemon so overripe it looked like a lime, he falls even more in love with you.

He smiles to himself as he turns back to the sim and starts a new lap around Spa.

“Hypothetical question,” you call out to him, just as he gets to turn 1. Typical. Max credits you with the fact that he’s able to watch the race even while driving it, because he’s so used to distractions at home.

“No,” he replies immediately, because he knows where this is going. “I wouldn’t love you if you are going to be a beetle or a worm or something,”

“Firstly, that’s really bold of you to say after I loved you through the haircut in Singapore,”

“Oh my God,” he groans. He swears he’s forgotten everything about that weekend except the unfortunate haircut, because you never mentioned the race since. But the haircut, that’s haunted him ever since.

“Kafka had nothing on that haircut, that was an assassination attempt,” you say behind him.

“What is a Kafka?” Max asks as he bounces over a curb. The chair shakes a little bit.

Your bare legs appear in Max’s periphery and he allows himself one glance as you perch on the mini fridge next to his trophy.

“You know, like the book, Metamorphosis?” You explain, tapping your pencil against the notepad. “Because the guy turns into a giant beetle and his whole family turns on him,”

“No,” Max replies, already thoroughly disgusted. “What the fuck is that?”

“Max, I know you didn’t go to school but the internet is free,”

“I’m not going to spend my time reading about a human beetle,” he scoffs, a shiver rolling through him as his nose wrinkles. If this is what it takes to be educated, he’s glad he’s just fast. “What was your question,”

“It’s-“ you stop, and he lifts his foot off the throttle. “Oh, should we get some Chablis?”

“Why?”

“For when you’re dad comes on Tuesday,”

“My dad’s not coming on Tuesday,”

“Yes, he is,” you insist, and Max wonders how you would know that if he didn’t. “Isn’t he?”

Max pauses his lap, which he knows is basically fucked, and turns to face you. “I thought your dad was coming on Tuesday,”

He watches as your expression sours instantly. “Great, so one bad tempered European man who lives vicariously through his child is going to show up on Tuesday evening, we just don’t know which one of us he’s related to,” you roll your eyes, and Max reaches over to squeeze your knee. “I’ll text my dad and check,”

You pull your phone out of the hoodie pocket and begin to tap away. Max considers restarting his lap but thinks before of it.

“So, your hypothetical?” He prompts, his hand sliding towards the inside of your thigh.

“One second,” You say, scrolling. “Hm.” Maybe you don’t even notice you do it, but your eyes flicker up to Max for a split second as your tongue glides over your canine. Sassy does that right before she hisses at him.

“What?” Max asks, squeezing your leg to get your attention.

“Apparently we’re never getting married,” you say, finally looking up at him with a blank stare.

He hedges his bets, stuttering out a quiet, “huh?”

“‘Fans of F1’s most famous couple may have wait for a wedding, as Verstappen stresses he is in no hurry to tie the knot’,” you recite, reading from your phone.

Max rolls his eyes. As much as he tries to avoid answering questions about your relationship, he can’t dodge all of them. Every now and again he’s advised to feed the animals. And this is what they do with whatever he says - twist it into something only vaguely resembling what he meant.

He’s about to laugh when he notices the way you’re looking at your phone. Your lips are pursed as you scroll studiously. You cross one leg over the other, forcing Max to move his hand.

“So what?” Max asks, scrutinising your face. “Are you in a hurry?”

You lock your phone and toss it towards the couch. “Nope.”

“So, what’s the problem?” He asks, craning his head to catch your eye but you stand up and walk out of view.

“I didn’t say there was a problem,” you call flippantly, your voice getting further away.

Max may be a little bit clueless, but he knows you well enough to know there absolutely is a problem.

“No, you never say that,” he says, climbing out of his sim rig as you sit down on the couch. “You just disappear and don’t talk to me and then I have to run around a city trying to find you-“

“One time,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Four times,” Max corrects, ready to start listing them.

“Oh, so that’s why you don’t want to marry me?”

“When did I say-“

Max stops himself because he can hear his voice rising to a hoarse squeak. He doesn’t really understand how you got there. But then he looks at you, sitting cross legged on the couch, picking at your freshly manicured nails as if they’ve personally offended you, and he remembers that in an uncharacteristic lack of self awareness, you still think he holds even a single card in this game.

He’ll never understand what it is that makes you think that there’s a future for him without you in it, because there isn’t and there never has been. But, to paraphrase some writer you love, he’s not meant to understand, he’s just meant to love you. Which he does. Enough to know that you hate feeling like the person who cares more.

You move when he sits beside you, scrambling to the corner of the couch and stretching out perpendicular to Max, which makes him sigh. You pick up your phone and start scrolling, not even acknowledging his presence.

“To be clear,” Max says pointedly, “I didn’t mean I didn’t want to get married. I just meant it’s not…” he chews his lip, choosing his next words carefully. “I will spend the rest of my life with you anyway, right? So I can get married to you tomorrow or in ten years, it doesn’t matter to me,”

You don’t say anything to this, but you do put down your phone to cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, maybe it should. It is a legally binding contract, you know. Once you sign on it, you can’t get rid of me,” you tease, nudging his thigh with your foot. Max smiles ruefully; despite your sing-song tone, the thought even entering your mind makes him uncomfortable.

“I haven’t been able to get rid of you in twenty-six years,” he says, taking the way you’re fighting a smile as his cue to come closer. He shift himself onto the couch as crawls over you, one arm on the back of the couch to trap you while the other moves your legs apart so he slot between them. “And I haven’t wanted to. A piece of paper isn’t going to change that. But if it will that even more obvious to you then we can do it soon. If you want we can do it in the Vegas paddock for all I care,” he punctuates each couple of words with kisses pressed to your cheek, jaw, and finally your neck, which he nips at playfully as you squirm under him.

“Okay, slow down please,” you chide, pushing Max away from you, but when he pulls away he can see you’re smiling. “We don’t even know if we’re going to be together by November,”

Max snorts at that. “No, you’re right,” he says, fighting a smile as you shift in your seat so that you can lean against him.

He puts his arm around you and you spot in under it, resting your head against his chest. Even shielded from the sun as you are, the golden light seems to find you. You just glow.

“Okay, are you allowed to eat cheesecake this week? Because I’m not going to buy one if you just-“

“Wait,” Max interrupts. “What was your hypothetical question?”

You chuckle sheepishly as you glance up at him. “Oh, it was, if I disappeared how long would you wait for me before moving on,”

“Three days,” Max answers, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Because after three days either someone is going to return you because you’re so annoying, or you’re dead and there’s no point waiting,”

“You know, when you finally, and I quote, get around, to asking me to marry you, I’m going to say no,” you tell him, slapping at his stomach.

He catches your hand and entwines your fingers, lifting your hand to his lips. “Don’t worry, by the time I get around to it you won’t remember this conversation,”

“True,” you shrug, resting your notepad on his thigh while you scribble down bresaola. “You don’t even have a ring and that’ll take at least a year to find,”

Even with your head leaning on his chest you didn’t notice Max’s involuntary jerk. Quick reaction time saved his ass again.

Max isn’t good at lying. History has proven that. But he was good at omitting. There is always a small part of him that felt bad when he kept secrets from you, and now is the same. He always dealt with it by promising himself he’d tell you whatever it was when the time was right. He knows that now is not the time for you to know what you’d find if you went into the safe at his dad’s house. What’s been sitting there since the 4th January. You’ll know eventually.

So all he says is, “yeah,” with a gentle smile. “At least a year.”

#max verstappen x reader

94 notes · View notes

jensettermandu · 8 hours

Text

black cat & golden retriever*ೃ༄

"the black cat and golden retriever duo of le sserafim i.e the asocial & social, hot & cold, sun & moon, day & night."

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

prev. m.list. next.

“You’re up.”

“Yeah,” was all that Yunjin got in response, barely catching it as she sat on the couch and Y/n passed to get to the open kitchen.

She turned around, leaning her arms on the backrest of the couch to look at the feline who grabbed a glass of water. It was one of those rare days when they had their day off and Yunjin had been lying around waiting for Y/n since 10 A.M.; it was 1 P.M. when the girl finally woke up.

When Yunjin woke up and realised that it was a free day, her mind started swirling with things she could do and each thought contained the girl who wasn’t paying her any mind at the moment. It wasn’t anything Yunjin minded; Y/n had always been quiet, the quietest member of the group and she could still remember their first encounter.

They had come a long way; a very long way.

“Well, I was thinking–” She started and automatically got up from the couch as her feet led her towards Y/n. It was like she was being pulled by a magnet. “Since it’s a day off we could go out, there’s this café, I know you like to…” The words were flowing out of Yunjin’s mouth without a break as she walked to where Y/n was drinking water.

“So, we could leave at like 40? I’m all ready to go.” She concluded and leaned against the counter to look at Y/n who had yet to put down the glass.

Y/n removed the empty glass from her lips that she licked after, putting it on the counter. It seemed like Yunjin had planned a whole day for them already and it made the feline look over at the canine who was looking at her; expectantly as she waited for a yes.

“When did I say I was planning on spending the day with you?”

“I–Y/n!” Yunjin complained as her lower lip jutted out, but to no avail, as Y/n had already turned away and was walking back towards her room.

“Yes?”

“Please?” She pleaded, chasing right after the girl who sighed as she opened her door and stepped inside the room.

Y/n turned to look at Yunjin who was still waiting for her, she looked lost as if she wouldn’t know what to do with herself unless Y/n told her what to do.

It kind of was that way.

“I’m not going to the café or any of the other things you mentioned, Yunjin.” The thought of going out and being among all those people made Y/n want to go right back to bed and continue sleeping. She already did enough of that when she had work, the last thing she would want to do on a free day was be in crowded places.

“I’m heading to the park,” Y/n stated as Yunjin looked like she was about to start whining.

“Okay! I will go get my stuff right now. I will come with you.” She happily replied.

“No.”

“That’s a yes,” Yunjin called out as she was on her way to get her stuff, knowing that a lot of the time Y/n meant the opposite of what she said.

There was no way Y/n would say that she didn’t mind Yunjin tagging along despite loving her alone time and originally having her day planned with no one else in the picture. There was always an exception for Yunjin.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There were times when Y/n wondered why she became an idol to begin with. There were a lot of reasons as to why she would wonder why. One of them was the social part. Despite being in a group full of introverts, she was the one who did not enjoy being social, in other words, the girl was asocial.

Her members enjoyed being out with or around other people, needing to only be alone to recharge–Y/n preferred solitary.

Y/n’s social battery didn’t last long either.

With multiple groups having their comebacks this month, she was called to the building to film challenges with different labelmates. Three different challenges to be exact and each took about 20 minutes if not less.

To greet each other. Go over the dance. Take multiple shots and then bid goodbye.

After an hour Y/n found herself at the Hybe roof terrace, taking a break to recharge and be able to film the ones with her members.

There was no escape though, the door opened and she ignored it as she continued to stare ahead. The best she could do was pretend she didn’t see or hear the person come out and that way she would get her peace even if the presence of someone else was annoying to her. This was the most secluded she would get at the moment.

She would probably get more–

“Y/n, I have to tell you what just happened…”

Yunjin sat down beside the girl and took out her phone as she started to explain while showing her the screen. All she got was silence, but it didn’t make her pause for a second as she talked before getting any affirmation to start.

She glanced over at Y/n to check if she was listening as she had yet to get a response from her feline since she started going over the previous events.

The ginger smiled to herself as the feline’s eyes were glued to her phone, seeing that Y/n was listening to her like she always did. Her full attention was on Yunjin, possibly a small smile on her lips or maybe it was the light–Y/n didn’t smile often–the girl always listened to every word she had to say no matter how small or big it was.

It made her continue, knowing Y/n wouldn’t talk much, but Yunjin could go for hours as long as she had Y/n’s attention on her. She knew that the dark-haired girl was an amazing listener.

Maybe Yunjin was a rare exception that made it possible for Y/n’s battery to recharge because of how comfortable she felt around her. She always gave up her alone time so Yunjin could rant to her about whatever it was that she had on her mind. Y/n simply dropped her needs and the only need was to hear what Yunjin had to say.

No one listened to Yunjin the way Y/n would do.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Y/n was rational, she always had her thoughts collected and emotions in check. However, being approached and asked the same question every other week was infuriating even to someone like Y/n. She valued her privacy and having someone trying to invade it ticked her off.

“What’re you doing?” She huffed and glanced at Yunjin who rested her chin on her shoulder after coming up from behind her. Yunjin’s eyes fell on the girl’s phone screen and Y/n rolled her eyes at the anger that was bubbling inside her, but she always kept it on the inside.

“He sent his manager to ask for my number this time.”

It made Yunjin furrow her eyebrows as their fellow labelmate had been trying to get Y/n’s number for quite some time now. It had never been directly in person though; Yunjin assumed it was because Y/n’s silent and mysterious nature was intimidating yet drew people in.

“It’s infuriating because I can’t tell him off personally.” Y/n expressed and Yunjin was the quiet one this time as it wasn’t often that Y/n spoke much, so she did her best to not accidentally interrupt. She liked listening to the feline once she would start talking.

“We could maybe approach him ourselves and…” Yunjin trailed off as she looked for ideas, knowing that Y/n wasn’t one to walk up to someone to start a conversation, but this was different. She was aware that Y/n’s words had a sting on them because of her boldness and if she went alone it could cause a scandal.

Her fingers gently twisted the sweater Y/n was wearing as she had her arms wrapped around the girl from behind. As her thoughts would run wild she still found the time to also bask in Y/n’s scent and comforting warmth.

“We could threaten him.” “We could tell him to stop.”

Yunjin pulled away from the feline she was hugging from behind and they both turned to look at each other at the very different suggestions. The ginger scratched at her nape and despite the anger she could feel radiating from Y/n, the girl didn’t look like she was plotting murder. Y/n was always collected on the outside and it made it hard for the canine to know what went on on the inside.

She tried her best to understand though;

“Well, I don’t think we should threaten him, but if I were you, I would think so too, so I agree but we could do what I was thinking instead.” She reasoned, doing her best to see it from Y/n’s point of view, however, Yunjin was too soft to go through with it.

“We? Wait—why are we talking we? I can handle myself, Yunjin.”

“Don’t worry, I will help.” Yunjin always stepped in to defend the girl who never needed any help defending herself however those words always fell on deaf ears. The canine defended her feline whether she wanted it or not and in the end, Y/n let her;

“I don’t want or need your—“

Y/n stopped and groaned as she ran a hand through her hair as she looked through the empty hallway she had been waiting in for Yunjin. There was no reason to argue about it when it wouldn’t change anything and she would only work herself up more and let Yunjin be a hero.

Yunjin liked the peaceful options. Y/n didn’t lose control often, but when she did it could go overboard. The canine girl was a great source of balance in those rare moments.

“You know what?”

“Yeah?” Yunjin piped.

“We should go to the studio.” The feline suggested at last, knowing how to control her emotions like puppet masters controlled their marionettes; some were hard, but they were caused by someone else. Those were emotions she realised couldn’t be controlled as she looked at Yunjin.

The best option for Y/n was to always ignore her anger, bottle it up and distract herself by occupying herself with something else. It was the most rational solution at hand to the problem.

“Oh! We could work on the–”

“Yeah, let’s go now.” She dismissed the sentence knowing what Yunjin would say and grabbed the taller girl by her hoodie as she led the way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Y/n knew just how to pass by people without them trying to stop her to greet her and talk. Considering her fame even among idols, it happened often and she knew just how to avoid it.

The hardest sharks to avoid were the ones in the backstage waters. Groups would swarm, greet each other, film content to promote songs and catch up with friends if not make new ones. Y/n included, but just not this time.

Among a sea of faces, she would describe as dull, there would always be one person who would stand out. She’d like to call it unfortunate that she was drawn to the sun and the walk she was making to her group's green room turned into a detour towards Yunjin who was talking to someone who gave Y/n a bad feeling.

The feline would call her canine far too naïve.

Yunjin always tried to see the good in people.

Y/n was far more cautious and saw the bad before looking at the good.

The feline’s logic was way too precise to ignore and so when her senses rang with bad intentions she couldn’t not intervene when Yunjin was about to exchange numbers with the guy.

“We’re not allowed to give out our numbers,” her hand grabbed hold of Yunjin pulling back the girl’s hand that was about to give out her number. It was like a tingling of all the bad intentions coming from the male idol. As cold as Y/n could come off, she cared deeply even if she wouldn’t admit to it.

“That’s only when managers are looking, isn’t it?” The guy asked with a chuckle, his hand about to reach out to get Yunjin’s phone who this time hid it behind her back.

As far as Yunjin knew, Y/n was always good to listen to.

“I can call one over and you can ask again.”

He looked between the two girls who stood with their arms linked, waiting for Yunjin to say something. The hook? Yunjin didn’t go against Y/n. First off, she wouldn’t win, second, she didn’t want to because this was the girl she would do anything for. She was nothing but a good girl to her feline.

“Forget it.” His tone was harsh this time.

“Didn’t plan to remember it,” Y/n replied and side-glanced at the guy who was already blinking red lights before she tugged Yunjin to walk.

“Just because they work in the same industry doesn’t mean that they have the same good intentions as you.” She mumbled as they got away from the guy, walking towards their green room.

“He wanted to hang out.”

“Yunjin…” Y/n trailed off in disbelief, making the ginger stop in her steps and the feline looked at her with eyebrows raised, seeing the dots connect through Yunjin’s face.

“Okay yeah.” She nodded, seeing where it would all lead.

Yunjin truly dodged a bullet, thanks to Y/n.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Everyone who knew Y/n knew she loved her peace, the moments where it was just her and nothing else. Silence that she filled however she preferred by either listening to music, reading, painting, or anything she liked as long as she was all by herself and not in anyone’s company.

Her room was her sanctuary, the safe space where she found herself most of the time, especially after days that could be exhausting for someone who was asocial. The members all knew it, respecting boundaries they never found themselves knocking on the girl’s door or entering her room unless it was important or Y/n asked for them–vice-versa.

There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed.

However, there was still one person who often did knock on Y/n’s door before slowly opening it. That one person who always seemed to be around her, suffocating her, but somehow oxygen seemed to be the last thing on Y/n’s mind whenever the sun appeared before the moon.

She looked up from the book in her hold, the room illustrated by the orangish light from the side lamp on the night table. The same head as usual peeked inside with a bright smile no matter the time. Y/n sported her neutral stoic expression as Yunjin licked her lips and smiled even bigger when Y/n looked at her.

Unlike Y/n, Yunjin loved nothing more than spending the last hours before a new day with someone close to her, someone she cared for and wanted to be around every second of the day one way or another. That someone was Y/n who was staring at her in dead silence without any muscles on her face moving.

Most people would turn around and close the door at the intimidating look that was always on Y/n’s face.

Not Yunjin!

“Do you perhaps want to watch The Real Housewives of New York City?”

No one would ever believe that Y/n watched some silly reality show; it was far from how she appeared.

Yunjin looked away, half of her head disappeared for a second as she shuffled on the other side with the sound of rustling before she appeared fully again. The feline in the bed was yet to answer her, the door got pushed open fully with a thud, making her sigh and Yunjin stepped inside.

“I got your favourite snacks too.”

Aside from showing the plastic bag that she had to offer with her laptop under her arm, she offered her feline a smile once again.

There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed. Almost.

Y/n didn’t answer, instead, she sighed again but with a roll of her eyes. Yunjin could start bouncing off the walls when the girl closed her book. The ginger pushed the door closed while Y/n bit back a smile while putting away the book on the nightstand as all her attention would be on the canine as always.

The double-sized bed dipped before Y/n could finish putting away her stuff, making her click her tongue; Yunjin’s eagerness was evident despite the late hours of night slowly approaching.

“I was thinking–” The older started as she made it to her spot on Y/n’s bed as the feline moved to the side by the wall.

“Ask me tomorrow.” It wasn’t hard for Y/n to read her fellow member who jutted out her lower lip while opening the laptop. Yunjin was always thinking and they would never get to watching if she wouldn’t stop her every once in a while.

She compensated by always listening any other time.

“Okay…” She agreed either way, getting a hum of acknowledgement and she glanced over at Y/n who was busy with rummaging through the snacks.

With that she got the show running on the laptop, turning off the side lamp before she leaned back against the headboard. Something was missing as Yunjin fiddled with the duvet that was draped over her legs. Her eyes darted to Y/n who was half lying down, chewing on one of the jellies in her mouth.

Y/n inhaled deeply, feeling Yunjin’s gaze on her and she knew what type of eyes she would encounter if she looked at the girl beside her. It didn’t matter if she looked or not, Y/n didn’t need a pair of puppy eyes to get convinced.

No matter how many times Yunjin would wrap her arms around her throughout the day it was different during these moments.

“Yunjin–” She called out for the girl, still looking at the laptop that played their show.

“Yeah?” Y/n got a reply in an instant before she could fully finish Yunjin’s name.

“Lie down or leave.”

She happily obliged knowing that Y/n’s way of showing affection was different regarding words. It was still all warm even if Y/n came with a bite of frost that a certain sun melted.

Yunjin slowly lay down, the intimidating girl who shook hands with claws and smiled with a hiss was like a cosy ball of fur; Yunjin loved being the small spoon. She rested her head right under Y/n’s chin, her hands mindlessly playing with the girl’s hoodie while her back was rubbed as Y/n hugged her.

Y/n released a breath, relaxing her body as she let go of everything else on her mind because she could allow everything to wash away when Yunjin was around. The girl could be herself even if she felt like she was a difficult person, but Yunjin didn’t seem to mind. A gentle smile appeared on her lips as she rested her chin against Yunjin’s head, agreeing to feed the girl gummies.

Almost;

Because at the end of each day, the black cat loved having her golden retriever right beside her. .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#blackcat!y/n🐈‍⬛#yunjin imagines #yunjin fluff #yunjin x reader #yunjin x female reader #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim fluff #girl group imagines

71 notes · View notes

misshoneyimhome · 1 day

Note

What think about a smut where Willy he finds out that you faked an orgasm so he gives you an experience that you won’t forget?

#slutforwilliamnylander

Oh babe! You can't just spring something like this on me - there were loads of possibilities here 🙈 And naturally, I couldn't quite make up my mind on how to approach it, so I opted for a more straightforward route - but there were countless potential outcomes here 😜

Willy would of course never let you off the hook for faking it - need I say more? - but we all know that reaching the peak isn't always a walk in the park, even for the most skilled 😉

So, having said that, I hope you find it enjoyable 🤍

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Smut 18+; unprotected sex, cum inside, oral stimulation (f receiving), fingering, tying up, sex toy (vibrator), overstimulation, more unprotected sex (p in v), more cum inside;

Word count; 4.8K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Fake it till you make it I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️💦

You knew you were taking a risk as soon as you did it. You had never done it before. But tonight, just wasn’t your night, and you ended up faking an orgasm while being intimate with your boyfriend, William Nylander.

William was always amazing in bed - on the sofa, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the car – the list went on, but no matter where you were, he always made sure you reached climax. At least once, and preferably twice or more.

Just not tonight. Maybe you were too stressed out about work, or maybe your body and mind just weren’t in sync. But whatever the reason, you just couldn’t get there. Even though he felt so good inside you, moving at different paces as he listened to your moans, even hitting your G-spot with the tip of his cock, it still didn’t do it.

You even tried suggesting switching things up a bit – carefully not mentioning that you weren’t close – and as William took you from behind in doggy style, usually the perfect position to make you both moan loudly and climax together, it seemed that William was the only one about to come.

And at this point, you had given up on your own orgasm. If this position, with the intensity of William’s thrusts, didn’t do it for you, nothing would. So, instead, you did what you never thought you’d do with him inside you; you faked your moans louder, consciously clenched your walls around his member as a signal of your fake pending orgasm. And then, as you heard his deep groan, mixed with the words, “Fuck yes baby, I’m about to come,” you also pretended to climax.

Even after he had shot his load into your depth, you kept up the act by pretending to gasp for air as you came down from your fake high. Yet, when William then held you close as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

Your sex life with William had always been described with words like amazing, mind-blowing, incredible, and overwhelming. Occasionally, you even had light physical challenges after an intense night with your boyfriend – especially when he’d returned from a road trip, and you were both longing for each other’s touch. But it was always worth it.

From the very beginning, he had had a knack for navigating your body, finding the erogenous zones, and stimulating you just right. He was the first man you’d been with who took the time to find your sensitive spots and simply enjoyed your moans and small squirms when he did something just right. Whether he used his fingers, his mouth, both, or his cock, William always found ways to make you moan his name loudly, mixed with cries of pleasure as your juices covered him. And usually, he’d never be in doubt whether you’d come or not.

Of course, there were times of trial and error with positions, angles, and timing. You were both rather creative and adventurous in exploring each other and finding new ways to stimulate one another, though it wasn’t always without small challenges. Figuring out how to bend the legs without it hurting too much, avoiding gagging too hard, tying something just right – loads of things had happened over time. However, most of the time, you both managed to reach climax. Only a few times had William not been able to come, but that had just been because he was too tired after an intense match or training. And instead, he’d just focused on how many times he could make you come.

So, it was nothing but a mystery to you why you hadn’t been able to reach your high. And what surprised you even more was that William hadn’t noticed you’d been faking it. Though you never really liked the sound of your own moans, you were sure they sounded different when you faked them. Yet, it seemed your little act had convinced him.

It’s not that it hadn’t felt good. In fact, it had felt just as amazing as per usual. You could sort of feel the orgasm building up, so maybe your moans weren’t completely fake. However, you just couldn’t push yourself over the edge into that blissful state of mind. So, you settled for simple, nice stimulation, while William managed to fuck his way to his own climax.

In a way, you wanted to tell William, as you knew communication was key to incredible sex with a partner. However, you feared he might be too disappointed or even annoyed with you for not saying anything in the moment. And with his focus on the end of the regular season, you decided to live and let go. You convinced yourself it was just a one-off and perhaps it was better to ignore it and move on so you could enjoy the next time you and William were intimate.

Yet, that evening didn’t quite start the way it usually did.

What seemed like a regular Saturday game day against the Detroit Red Wings quickly turned into something much more sexual. While William was still completely unaware of your little act a few nights ago, you were chatting with your best friend about how to handle it.

And unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had just returned from his morning skate in order to rest before the match. So, while you were in the kitchen, chatting away as you made pancakes for his return, he simply stopped his movements.

“I swear, it has never happened before,” you said, looking at the delicious pancake you were preparing. “I just had to fake it… I know it wasn’t the best thing to do… yeah, I know, but Willy was giving his all, and it did feel so good… I know he’s got these moves that just make me ugh… they’re so good… I know, and I still couldn’t get a fucking orgasm… I know… hmm, yeah… but I don’t want to tell him with the last few games coming up… hmm, yeah… I don’t know, it’s not like he’s bad in bed or anything… it was just one time – I’m sure it won’t happen again, right? … Yeah, maybe, I’ve been quite stressed about work… alright… yes, we’ll chat soon.” You hung up and let out a soft sigh as you prepared the next pancake.

What you didn’t know was that William had heard every bit of your conversation as he stood in the entryway. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt and instead ended up accidentally eavesdropping. But it didn’t take much to connect the dots: you’d faked an orgasm while having sex with him.

And naturally, he couldn’t accept that.

Being good in bed was something William knew he was. It wasn’t something he’d brag about, except maybe occasionally to the boys when they were chatting about girls, but he just knew he was skilled when it came to the female body.

If not, then all the girls he’d been with had been great at faking it. Including you. And to say he’d been with several women might be a bit of an understatement. Not that William necessarily used to hook up with a new girl every week, but before you came along, he had a handful of female names in his contact list that he’d bring over when he needed it.

But then he met you. Someone who caught him completely off guard, even though he didn’t think he’d be up for dating.

You simply came into his life without a warning, and almost immediately, he was intrigued by you. It started as nothing but a simple one-night stand, where you got a pretty good taste of who William Nylander was. But then the one time became two times, and then your name was added to the existing contact list.

To put it in short, you were a great match for him. You showed up when he wanted and gave him the space he needed. It was simple and uncomplicated. However, as weeks turned into months, things just kept progressing, and William suddenly found himself wanting to see you more than the other girls on his list. You were the first one he’d call or text, and to his surprise, he’d feel disappointed when you weren’t available, having to settle for someone else instead.

This though, wasn’t something he’d really experienced before. With you, he simply felt a different connection. It wasn’t just sex between the two of you; it was so much more. You would laugh, talk, and cuddle. Quickies turned into longer sessions where you’d explore different positions and angles, maybe even toys if you felt like it. Late-night sex became late-night talks, and the moments when you’d grab your things and leave turned into you staying the night and showering at his place before heading off to work in the morning.

It was simple enough.

However, with William’s demanding career and schedule, and trying to manage your own work-life balance, you knew you couldn’t keep going like this. Though you liked William more than anyone you’d ever liked before, you knew this casual thing wouldn’t work out in the long run.

So, you gave him a choice—something you initially weren’t too keen on doing but felt was necessary. You told him either you’d keep it to only sex and nothing more, or you’d date and explore the idea of being exclusive.

William, of course, didn’t like the idea of having to choose, but he understood your position. And being a typical guy in his mid to late twenties, his first choice was to keep it just sex so he could focus on hockey. And surprisingly enough, this arrangement worked out alright – well, at least for a few weeks.

As is common in friends-with-benefits scenarios, William realised he didn’t like the idea of you starting to see someone else. And the mere thought of not having you available if he let you go made him swiftly change his mind, so he agreed to make it exclusive.

And this turned out to be one of the best choices he’d ever made. The shift from friends with benefits to romantic lovers felt almost natural and went a lot smoother than you’d expected. So soon after, you made it official to your friends and families (who weren’t really that surprised), as well as on his social media account—which, for you, was a huge step.

But when William heard your little confession to your friend, he decided to act as cool as possible about it—because naturally, you shouldn’t get the chance to be prepared for what he suddenly had in store for you.

Instead, he used the element of surprise to his advantage and greeted you with a simple kiss as he entered the condo and found you in the kitchen, his hands resting on your hips as his lips found the crook of your neck as you’d finished your call.

“Well, hello there, mister,” you chuckled lightly, flipping over the pancake.

“Mmm, smells so good, baby—you’re spoiling me,” William mumbled into your neck, his hands still tightly on your hips.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Of course, you deserve nothing less.”

“Yeah, because you faked it the other night…” William thought, yet he kept that to himself.

“Can’t wait, babe,” he instead simply said, before placing a kiss on the back of your head and making his way to the fridge to grab his favourite toppings.

You then flashed him a great smile, thinking everything was good and that he was just tired after his morning training. And so, you finished the last couple of pancakes before joining him at the dining table.

Yet, as the two of you enjoyed the deliciousness, you couldn’t help but sense something was off when William didn’t talk much. Usually, he’d praise you a lot more for making him pancakes without him asking for it. And though he knew you could have just made them as a gesture before the playoffs, he seemed to sense that you did it out of guilt.

And he wasn’t completely wrong. Even though you didn’t realise he was onto you, you made an effort to put him in a good mood before tonight's game by playing your best cards. But William had something else on his mind. He felt like you had deceived him, and he couldn’t just head off to the game tonight without making sure you had learned your lesson.

So, after you both finished the pancakes and tidied the table, you would have expected him to go for his usual afternoon nap, yet, to your great surprise, he simply walked slowly towards you as you stood by the dining table.

"What’s up, Willy?" You asked with curiosity as his grin widened. But he didn’t reply. Instead, he gently lifted you to sit on the table, and hooked two fingers under the hem of your comfy shorts as well as knickers, before tucking them down as he knelt before you.

Helping him by lifting yourself a little, you couldn’t help but smile as you anticipated what he was about to do. William was certainly skilled in the art of oral pleasure, and you never missed an opportunity to let him indulge in your core. And given that this particular scenario before a match wasn’t entirely uncommon, you simply relaxed into his movements, leaning back on the table as he positioned himself before you, lifting your legs over his shoulders while he kissed his way up your inner thighs.

Soft moans escaped your lips as he drew closer and closer to your most sensitive area. And as soon as his expert mouth made contact with your delicate flesh, you couldn’t help but let out a louder moan, tilting your head back and closing your eyes, while running your hand through his hair.

"Oh yes, Willy!" you moaned breathlessly, feeling arousal starting to pulse through your body and mind.

You could almost sense William smirking against your throbbing centre as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping your hips in place as they occasionally lifted upwards in response to his ministrations.

It was sheer bliss as he sucked and licked your core, his tongue alternating between flicking your sensitive clit and delving into your entrance. He simply showed no restraint.

William’s aim was solely to make you squirm under his touch, to elicit louder and louder moans as he drove you closer to orgasm. And he could already sense it when your thighs pressed against him, your fingers tugging at his hair, your heels digging into his back, and your breath becoming rapid.

But as you quickly neared climax, he abruptly stopped and withdrew from your warmth.

"What—?" you panted, swiftly opening your eyes to find a thoroughly satisfied boyfriend before you. "Willy?" you asked, still bewildered by his sudden halt.

But William's plan had worked perfectly. And with a giant smirk, he slowly hovered over you, coming intensely close to your ear so you could feel his hot breath and smell your own juices on his glistening lips and beard.

"Not so fun to be teased, huh?" he chuckled darkly, pulling back gently to meet your gaze. His pupils dilated, his grin wide and almost devilish as he growled deeply. "Yeah, I know about your little act the other night... You think you can fake it with me? Hmm, I think I'll have to teach you a lesson and make sure it never happens again."

You were left utterly baffled, in disbelief. You knew William possessed a dominant character, especially in the bedroom, but you had never heard him growl like that. And never before had he denied you an orgasm in such a manner. He had skilfully brought you to the brink of climax faster than ever before, only to leave you hanging, without release, and simply strutted off to his match.

"That motherf-..." you muttered under your breath, still lying on the table while William busied himself getting ready for the arena.

Normally, he wouldn’t be in such a rush to leave, as he was usually the last to arrive. But today was entirely different, and a giant smirk was plastered across his handsome face as he left you high and dry – well, more accurately, almost high and definitely wet.

The match against the Red Wings didn’t end well for the Leafs, unfortunately. Despite all the players giving their all, the result was a disappointing 5-4 victory for Detroit.

And with the intense match, packed with power plays, penalties, hits, and more, you assumed William had long forgotten about the little encounter the two of you had before he left for tonight’s game. Even you had nearly forgotten about it as you felt the rush of adrenaline while watching from the side-line.

However, to your surprise, the loss only seemed to fuel William's inner fire even more. And as he quickly whisked you away from the hallway, almost interrupting your conversation with Sanna, he grabbed your hand and led you to the car park.

"Willy, slow down," you tried to say as you hurried to keep up with his pace. But your boyfriend had no intention of slowing down. And as you sat in the car, ready to head home, he simply gave you a dark, stern look while biting his lower lip.

"You don’t get to tell me what to do, baby... I'll be the one to tell you."

His words were simple, yet his voice dripped with raw desire and pure lust. It was a side of him you hadn’t truly experienced before, only catching glimpses of it after an intense night. But tonight, it seemed like you were getting the full show. And you couldn’t help but feel your arousal building at the mere thought of what he might do to you.

However, you shouldn’t get too excited just yet. William had already started the game by teasing you earlier, and you sensed he was still up to no good. So, as he navigated through the streets of Toronto, you tried to control your breathing and relax as much as possible.

You were nothing but curious to find out more about his plan, and fortunately, you didn’t have to wait long. As soon as you entered the lift taking you to one of the high floors, William pinned your hands above your head, pressing you against the wall as his lips crashed onto yours.

His tongue forcefully pressed against your lips, seeking entrance, and you immediately obliged, letting his tongue explore yours. It was already incredibly hot and steamy, and you hadn’t even reached the apartment yet.

And as soon as you reached the floor, William left you breathless, before he dragged you to the front door of the condo, where he simply threw you over his shoulder, giving your arse a quick, hard slap before he carried you to the bedroom, where he tossed you onto the mattress.

“So, you think you can fake an orgasm?” he chuckled darkly, untying his tie with a smirk spreading across his face.

Though you couldn’t help but smile a little, gazing up at him with pressed lips, you shook your head. Leaning back on your arms for support, your eyes followed his every move as he undressed down to his boxers, still grinning before he knelt onto the bed.

“So, you didn’t fake it?” he inquired with a cocked brow as he crawled closer, his movements naturally spreading your legs. Then leaning over your body, placing an arm on each side, he gently forced you to lie down on your back.

And this time, you nodded. “I did…” you admitted in a light whisper, trying your best to suppress a smile.

“Hmm,” William merely groaned. “I guess we’ll have to make up for it then.”

You knew William wasn't exactly Christian Grey, or any other extreme dom. For the two of you, it was usually more about fun and play rather than something serious and structured. And though he had a naturally dominant character, you were equals in bed, often smiling and giggling as you pleased each other.

So, when he said he wanted to teach you a lesson, you knew it was more of a playful tease than an actual reprimand.

“Stay still,” he then simply commanded before crawling back, leaning down to reach for his tie. Of course, you complied, curious to see what he had in mind. And as he then came back and placed your hands above your head, doing his best to tie the fabric around your wrists and connect them to the headboard, you felt an exciting sensation coursing through you.

“Be a good girl for me.”

His commands were simple, and you knew better than to misbehave. Instead, you wanted to play along to ensure both of you felt pleased. And as you remain in position, William slowly began to undress you, removing your jeans, socks, and then your bottoms, leaving you in just your jersey, proudly displaying his last name and number – which he seemed to enjoy a little too much.

With your core fully exposed to him, you couldn’t help but let out a light gasp as you felt the cool air brush against your sensitive area. Especially when William carefully ran his larger hands over your thighs, spreading your legs wider to give him the perfect view of your cunt.

“Mmm, yes… and it’s all mine,” he muttered under his breath as he slowly let his fingers draw closer, gently sliding them between your folds, feeling your wetness.

“Oh Willy…” you moaned softly as he brushed over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

“You like that, baby?”

Of course, you did. William was incredibly skilled at pleasuring you, and he knew it. So, you simply nodded, keeping your hands in place as your eyes followed his movements and you bit your lip. “Mmm, yes…” a soft whimper escaped you. It was almost embarrassing how needy you sounded, but you couldn’t help it. William had you completely under his control, and your body was his to use.

As he then pressed a finger against your entrance, you let out another soft moan.

“So wet already? We haven’t even started,” William chuckled as he easily slid his middle finger inside you, feeling how wet you were for him as he gently massaged your inner walls.

“Mmm yes… just for you,” you moaned, feeling the pleasure slowly building within you as he curled his finger at just the right angle.

“That’s it, baby... all for me,” he growled once more, adding another finger and stretching you a little further as he pumped his digits in and out. “Is this what you want? Will this make you come?”

His questions were somewhat rhetorical, but you couldn’t help but nod in response. Meanwhile, the wet sounds of his fingers working inside you only spurred him on further. William knew your body well, and this was definitely a good sign.

So, curling his fingers at just the right angle to find that particularly sensitive spot, he increased his speed and force, fingering you with the sole mission of pushing you closer to orgasm.

And he was succeeding. With your hands tied firmly above your head, you couldn’t help but let the pleasure consume you, surrendering to his touch as you closed your eyes and allowed your mind to drift freely, embracing the approaching climax and the euphoria that followed.

“Yes, Willy… yes…”

And just like that, you let out a louder moan as he pushed you over the edge into a blissful high. Bucking your hips upwards, arching your back, and tilting your head backwards as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, you surrendered to the ecstasy.

Reaching the peak was nothing short of amazing, yet as you slowly calmed from the high and opened your eyes, you were met with a thoroughly satisfied William before you.

“Was that good?” he chuckled, prompting another nod from you. “Well, then I guess we’ll have to do it again then.”

You understood William’s mission. Since you’d faked one orgasm, he was determined to see how many more he could elicit from you. And this was just the beginning of many more to come.

The next one came from something entirely different: namely a vibrator. Though William wasn’t usually one to incorporate toys into your intimacy, tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity to change that.

“So, you couldn’t come from me fucking you, huh? But maybe you could with this?” he said as he knelt between your legs once more, bringing the buzzing toy closer to your heat. And quickly a cry of pleasure escaped your lips as the vibrating sensation made contact with your sensitive flesh.

“Oh yes…” you moaned louder this time, your legs almost trembling as he dragged the toy against your folds and clit, bringing you even closer to your second climax by every movement. And with your hands tucking on the fabric above your head, you couldn’t do anything but let him play with you.

However, as much as William enjoyed your whimpers and cries beneath him, he found even greater pleasure in hearing you moan out his name when you reached your peak. So, he didn’t delay in allowing you to reach your orgasm. And seeing the wetness he was creating between your legs, the sheets completely soaked from your juices, filled him with satisfaction.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he breathed deeply before leaning down to forcefully capture your lips, stealing away all your breath as he kept the toy against your heat.

But it became too overwhelming. And upon reaching your third orgasm quickly after, you let out another soft cry. “Please, Willy…” you pleaded in a whisper. “I want you…”

And that was all the encouragement he needed to toss the vibrator across the room, swiftly removing his last piece of clothing and freeing his incredibly hard and throbbing cock.

Then moving into the missionary position once more, he leaned in close to your ear. “You want me?” he growled once again, his member pressing against your core as the tip teasingly brushed against you.

“Yes, Willy… please... fuck me.”

And your words spurred him to thrust himself entirely into your depths with one forceful movement, eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Fuck!” you almost screamed as he hit the deepest parts inside you.

But that only drove William wilder. Feeling his own urgent need for release, he swiftly picked up the pace, pounding into you with vigorous motions, stimulating your walls with each movement.

“Shit, yes, baby,” he moaned in sync with you, your breaths mixing in the close distance as he thrusted mercilessly.

It was almost too much for you to handle. Your arms above you felt sore, and your lower body was close to going numb from the intensity. However, your mind was completely immersed in a euphoric haze as William brought you to your fourth and probably most intense orgasm.

You couldn’t even warn him about it. However, he knew by the way your eyes remained closed, your head sinking into the mattress, your breaths becoming incoherent, and your muscles tightening around him. And this time, William was sure it wasn’t fake.

Mixed with beads of sweat on your skins, caused by the intense activity, he could almost feel himself being soaked by your essence as he continued to pound into you. And with your loud moans echoing through the room, coupled with the sound of skin colliding, William then pushed himself closer to his own release. With a deep grunt, he finally reached his much-desired climax, releasing strings of cum deep inside you.

The air felt thick and heavy as you both gasped for breath, slowly coming down from the pleasure-induced high and regaining strength in your bodies. With slow and gentle movements, William managed to untie your hands from the knot.

He wanted to hold you close, and you wanted the same. However, with the heat radiating from both of you, you simply rested next to each other, turning your heads to share wide smiles.

“So,” William breathed, turning his body to lean on his arm and elbow. “Just to make sure... this wasn’t fake, was it?”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, turning to face him with a cocky grin. “Hmm... I’m not sure,” you teased, prompting William's signature laughter.

“Well, in that case,” he smirked once again, positioning himself on top of you and causing you to roll onto your back. “Maybe we should do it again... just to be sure.”

You knew he was teasing, yet the devilish glint in his eye had you doubting. And with your body already sore and overstimulated, you knew what the sensible answer should be. However, as the playful banter between you two was a never-ending game, you couldn’t resist the challenge.

“Maybe we should.”

Did you immediately regret it? Perhaps. But did you end up experiencing two more intense orgasms? Yes, indeed you did.

#my asks #18+ smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey smut #nhl hockey imagine

59 notes · View notes

hoomandoescosplay · 3 days

Text

Drunken Confessions | Vox x Reader Oneshot

I lean back in my office chair as I let out a long sigh. “Man this day was draining.” I stretch my arms up helping my body to relax before standing up from my chair.

My office door swings open as I stand and I see Vox using the doorframe for support. I eye him questionably as I take in his appearance.

He stumbles into the room without his suit jacket and his shirt slightly unbuttoned. He quickly walks over to me and pulls me into a tight hug putting most of his body weight on me.

As he holds me he looks down at me with a flushed case and half-lidded eyes. I wrap my arms around him to help support his weight and notice the strong scent of alcohol on him.

"(Y/N)..." he says my name with a flirtatious tone but in a whisper making his breath brush against my face.

“Yes Vox?” I reply back trying to gauge how drunk he actually is right now. He leaned down pulling me back into a hug burying his face in my shoulder and kissing my neck as he spoke.

"I'm drunk..." he mumbled, his breath warm against my skin. His eyes were half closed and his hands started lazily tracing patterns on my back.

He chuckled to himself, the sound slightly slurred from the alcohol. I tense up slightly as he kisses my neck but quickly relax as I sigh.

“I’m glad we’re self aware. Come on, let me get you to your room.” I try to gently pry him off of me so I can start leading him to his room.

He clings to me tightly, his grip refusing to loosen, still nuzzling his face against my neck.

"I don't want to go to my room," he whined, pressing his body against mine. "I want to stay with you." he mumbled.

I glance at the clock on the wall as he continues to embrace me. “Vox, it’s super late, you need to go to your room and sleep.”

He shook his head refusing to let go. Instead he starts leaning down and tracing his lips down my neck, leaving behind kisses. Once he reaches the crook of my neck he nuzzled against it.

"No..." he breathed. "Not tired, not done with you yet." his words were getting more slurred and his hot breath sent shivers down my spine.

My face immediately flushes. “Alrighty no more of that.” I pull him away from me but still hold him up so he doesn’t fall.

“We’re friends but we’re also coworkers and you’re way too drunk and clingy right now. If you don’t want to go to bed at least sit on the couch and let me get you some water.” I try to compromise with him.

He whined in complaint but relented and allowed me to lead him over to the couch. His drunken state and his clinginess made it difficult, but it didn't help that he refused to let go of me. Once we reached the couch, he sat down but continued to pull at me.

"You're warm." he mumbled, pulling me down with him so I ended up sitting on his lap. I sigh as I eye my mini fridge across the room with water.

As he sat sprawled out on the couch, and me now sitting on his lap, I can feel his chest moving with every breath he took and his heart beating.

He stared drunkenly into my eyes, his gaze hazy and unfocused. "You're pretty," he mumbled with a smile. His fingers were gently tracing the hem of my shirt.

“Even though I know you're drunk, hearing you give out compliments is very odd.” I joke. He looked up at me with half-closed eyes and a crooked smile as he continued tracing circles on my back and pulled me in closer.

"Maybe I should compliment you more often," he mumbled. He reached up and tangled his hands in my hair, staring at my face for a moment before his gaze drifted lower.

"Or maybe I just really want to make out with you right now," he added, his words slurring together.

We’re both silent for a moment as we observe one another. I feel myself tense up at the thought that just popped up in my head. “Do you like me Vox?”

He can’t possibly have feelings for me right? We’ve known each other for a while, but we just recently became friends. I’ve worked for him longer than we’ve been friends. There's no way he has feelings for me.

He kept staring at me with his drunken, lust-filled gaze and a crooked smile. He seemed to be processing my question, contemplating the answer.

Then he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. "Of course I do," he mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of my head.

"You're beautiful and smart and... " he trailed off, his eyes wandering down as he started tracing circles on my back again.

As my body relaxes into his own all I can do is process what he just said. Vox likes me. Sure he’s drunk right now but for some reason I can tell he meant what he said.

His hands continued tracing circles on my back, occasionally making their way up to my neck and stroking my hair. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers lingering on my skin and occasionally digging lightly into my flesh.

He mumbled something I didn't quite catch as he moved his head down to my neck, burying his face against it as his lips lazily traced kisses down my skin.

As he kissed my skin, he began mumbling more incoherent praises and murmurs. He nuzzled his face against my throat, his breath hot and his lips tracing a burning path as he moved from my neck to my jaw.

“Vox.” I murmur out. He lifts his head up, looking at me with a hazy and unfocused gaze.

His eyes were half closed and his breath was warm and tinged with the smell of alcohol as he looked at me curiously. He seemed lost, like the sound of his name was hard for him to process.

"Yes," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred, his gaze still hazy and unfocused. He reached up to touch me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face with a lazy gesture.

“As much as I love this, you should really go to bed.” I give him a gentle smile as I squeeze his upper arm softly.

Vox groaned in response, his grip on me tightening slightly. There was a trace of drunken defiance in his slurred voice as he complained. "Don't wanna." he mumbled, his words slurring together. "Wanna stay with you."

I can’t help but let out a small laugh at his defiance. He’s so different when he’s drunk. “I never said I’d leave you. I just said you need to go to bed.”

His grip on me loosened slightly at my words and he groaned again, burying his face in my shoulder for a moment before mumbling something incoherent.

He seemed to be weighing his options, deciding between arguing or just giving in to my request.

After a moment, he seemed to give in and allowed me to lead him away to his room. His room wasn’t too far away from my office so it was a quick walk.

As soon as we got to his room I helped him sit on his bed and quickly grabbed a bottle of water for him before he could grab me.

He sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, a pout forming on his face as he watched me grab the bottle of water.

As soon as I handed it to him, he began taking big gulps from it. The water seemed to help him sober up slightly, his gaze becoming less hazy and unfocused.

However, the intoxication still seemed to linger on him as he still looked at me with a drunken smile and his cheeks flushed red. “C’mere.” He mutters out while tapping the empty spot next to him.

I obliged to his small request and sat next to him. He readjusts himself so he’s laying on his back and pulls me into him so I’m on my side with my head on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest and nestling his face in my hair. As his fingers traced circles on my back, he let out a content sigh.

The sound of his heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his chest creates a soothing rhythm that I can feel beneath my cheek.

“You’re comfy.” he mumbled against my head, his voice still slightly slurred and I began to smile. “Good you should be able to fall asleep no problem then.”

He smiled softly, his fingers now tracing lazy patterns on my back. "Mmmm I'll fall asleep... If you give me a kiss." he said in a half slurred whisper.

His gaze was still hazy, but he had regained some clarity as he stared at me, his smirk lazy yet cocky.

I start to laugh as his normal personality is starting to resurface. I sit up slightly and place my hand on his cheek. We stare at each other for a moment before I lean further in and kiss him gently.

He immediately reciprocates, the kiss slow and languid as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

As the kiss lasted, he deepened it slightly, tilting his head to get a better angle. The kiss continued for a few moments before he finally breaks away, a small smirk lingering on his face.

“Hmmm I guess I can go to sleep now.” he said in a low tone. The smirk quickly became a smile as he pulled me back down and held me close to his chest.

“Good cause you’ve made me exhausted.” I joke as I wrap my arm around his waist. He chuckled softly, the sound warm and low in his chest.

He continued to hold me tight, taking a deep inhale before letting out a content sigh. His fingers lazily traced patterns on my back, slowly slowing down as his breathing became deeper and slower. He seemed to finally relax and let sleep start to take over his body.

“I like you too, Vox.” I whisper as I begin to fall asleep as well. Right before I fell asleep, I thought I heard him mumble something that sounded like "I love you" in a tired and slurred speech.

But I couldn’t be sure if he did say that in his drunken stupor or if my sleep-addled brain was just wishful thinking. Either way I was extremely content right now.

55 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 2 days

Text

Certainty

for @ruhnweek Day 3: Chapter Three

Ruhn Danaan x Reader smut

warnings: smut below the cut, drug use (mirthroot), oral f!receiving

“Are you feeling any better?” you mumbled softly against Ruhn’s chest, your hand drawing lazy circles on his bare skin. The hand he held around your waist gave an affectionate squeeze, encouraging you to curl even closer into his side, leg hiking up over his hips.

His other hand pulled the joint from his lips, the sweet smoke of mirthroot blowing into the air with his exhale. Violet eyes flicked down to you, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m getting there,” he hummed, hand splaying at your back as it slid down to your ass, bare skin left uncovered by the lacy underwear you donned to bed along with one of Ruhn’s shirts.

Settling further into the sheets, Ruhn took another long drag, blowing smoke rings above your heads.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you questioned, pressing a kiss to his chest. It had been a long, brutal week for him, and seeing your mate in pain was painful for you as well.

Ruhn hummed thoughtfully at the question, squeezing your hips playfully before lifting the joint to your lips. Opening your mouth, you sucked in the sweet, smoky flavor while he held it for you.

A light smack landed on your ass, eliciting a small squeal from you. Ruhn chuckled, eyes glassy when he let go of the mirthroot between your lips. “You hold that there for me,” he murmured, shifting down slightly on the bed.

“Up, now,” Ruhn spoke louder this time, hands guiding your waist so that you were straddling his stomach. You sat still for a moment, smirking down at Ruhn as you took a deep inhale, basking in the pleasant lightheadedness from the drug.

“What are you thinking, love?” you purred, sliding your hips down his body to roll against his hardening length. Tugging his lip between his teeth, Ruhn muffled his grunt at your teasing touch before refocusing his darkened gaze on you.

Pulling the joint from your lips, he took one last puff before snuffing it out on the nightstand, hands winding beneath the fabric of your shirt to settle on your hips once again. “I’m thinking how unpredictable life is. So much has happened... It seems like nothing is certain anymore.”

Saddened by his words, you found yourself frowning as you searched for a response. Ruhn continued, though, not giving you time to say anything.

“But I am certain of these things: I will never stop loving you,” he promised, voice slightly breaking. You leaned down pressing your body against his and kissed him slowly, deeply. You let him slide his hands up your shirt, pulling away from the kiss to pull it off of you.

“And I am certain that I need to taste this pussy, right now,” he practically growled, snapping the band of your panties as you blushed at his crude words.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pulling you up so that you hovered over his face. He wasted no time pulling you down, lip ring dragging along your clit through the lace fabric at a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck,” you breathed, mind hazy to everything except his electric touch. “Ruhn, please.” Moaning against your pussy, he obeyed and pulled your panties to the slide. Tongue flicked out along your core, tasting and spreading the slick there.

He worked you with precise movements, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked harshly, only to let go and drag his lip ring over the swollen bud. The overstimulation made you jerk, unable to stand the pleasure he wrought on you.

Smirking, Ruhn’s hands held you firmly against him, unrelenting in his assault when you crashed into your high. Your weak legs shook body going lax with exhaustion as you leaned against the headboard, but Ruhn only doubled his efforts, laughing as you squealed and moaned and writhed above him.

“Ruhn,” you attempted through broken breaths, throat dry from screams of pleasure. “Please, I can’t.”

His tongue stilled on your clit just long enough to command, “yes, you can. Just one more for me.” The vibrations from his voice sent a jolt through you, and when Ruhn,’s tongue thrust inside of you, curling up at your walls as his nose brushed your clit, you hit your second orgasm.

Your entire body shook, collapsing against Ruhn the moment he released you from his grasp. Chest heaving, you felt his hand run through your hair while you caught your breath.

“I love you,” he murmured, lips warm against the top of your head as he attempted to roll you to his side for sleep.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tasting yourself on his lips as you pulled him in for a kiss. Trailing a hand down his torso, you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of his pants, confirming his hard length seeping with need there. Smiling at the sound that left his lips, you began kissing your way down his stomach. “But you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

57 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 2 days

Text

Excessive Force : a Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE AMAAAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘) - Chapter FOURTEEN ---> (all chapters)

trigger warnings: mention of police shooting, child trafficking, past childhood trauma, abuse, etc. plz take care!

“Are you serious?!” You have to move the phone away from your ear to avoid a blown drum from Sheila’s screech.

“Yup.”

“Okay, why don’t you sound as excited as me?”

“I’m nervous. He’s really forward. And, I haven’t been on a date in forever.” That didn’t end horribly… You’ve decided not to count the fiasco with Julian. You’re in your room, fingering through the limited collection of nice clothes in your closet. You briefly debate wearing a turtleneck and thick linen pants just to piss him off. But, also, there’s that little sundress you bought at the mall that you’ve never gotten a chance to wear… The pretty, soft color would pair very nicely with your silky cream bra and panty set—that you also have never worn. You’re starting to re-think the whole not being a prude thing.

Plus, it’s hot outside.

Sheila pulls you from your search. “Listen, if he tries anything, just kick him in the dick. Works every time.”

“He’s like eight feet tall. I don’t know if I can reach his dick… with my feet.”

You both giggle.

“That’s why they make step stools.”

“Like, for that exact reason?”

Sheila’s one of those people that has proven to be supportive. You met her on a bus tour your first week in LA and have been buddies ever since. It works perfectly since you both have hectic work schedules and don’t really expect anything from the other one. She calls you for drinks, you call her for lunch. Sympatico.

“Obviously. So, he’s tall. Is he hot?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you think back to his bare, bruised body on your exam table, those mile long, strong thighs that caged you in and felt more like they belonged to an Amazon Boa rather than a man.

“Okay, that silence either means hell yes or hell no, so which is it?” You hear the grin in Sheila’s voice.

“First one.”

You end up telling her about his persistent hospital visits, him pulling you over, maybe omitting some—okay, no, a lot of the details just so she doesn’t want to kill him just yet. You also haven’t told her about the Julian debacle–or that Tom basically rescued you.

You also leave out that he just happens to be the new superhero on every news channel right now. You’re still processing that yourself, and it’s not boding well for you keeping your cool with this man.

As it turned out, it was the news that informed you of Officer Tom Ludlow’s whereabouts those lonely night’s you’d missed him harassing you on that lonely stretch of highway. He wasn’t ignoring you. He was rescuing two teenage girls who had been kidnapped and trafficked by a gang. According to the report, Ludlow had entered the house after hearing a cry for help, alone, and gunned down every single one of the gangbangers before setting the girls free.

Parts of this story should have alarmed you, but there had been a time in your past when you would have given anything for a person of authority to ride to your rescue, red tape be damned. How many times had the cops come to your house for a domestic disturbance between your parents, and left you in a bad situation because of some legal technicality or another? How had they seen you, scared and dirty, cowering in the doorway, and left you behind? The horrors you could have told them, if only they’d cared to ask without your parents there to overhear and threaten you, but every time until the last time, they’d just left you in the hellhole that had been your childhood home.

How different your life—your sister’s lives—would have been if you had a Thomas Ludlow back then.

The twin girls’ MISSING posters and billboards were all over the city. Most anyone with the power to do something had given up on them as a lost cause, just another sad story, written them off as tragically probably dead in a gutter, but not Ludlow. Ludlow had risked his neck (and possibly his badge, because you’d heard of the old “I heard a cry for help” trick to gain entry, and it was almost always code for “I didn’t have a warrant, what are you going to do about it?”, to get them out, and goddammit if that didn’t just warm you to your toes and soften your heart.

Worse yet, you feel like the biggest asshole for calling him a fraud, to his face, the night after it all went down. He’d just taken it on the chin, and he still asked you out.

Ok, he technically extorted you, but it just doesn’t feel as sinister now as it had last night. He’d been bold, and borderline needy for some human tenderness, and fuck if you didn’t understand all too well why now.

Now, rather than having to keep yourself from tearing him a new one, you were afraid you were going to have to restrain yourself from crawling into his lap at the first opportunity, and fucking his brains out for being such a goddamed hero.

“Oh, he’s a freak!” Despite saying this, she sounds like she’s twirling her hair and kicking her feet.

You snort. “He’s got..uh…nice hands.”

You decide on the sundress and the bra-panty set, but you don’t bother laying them out in preparation, because you’re still telling yourself that this isn’t that big of a deal and you’re not that invested and that if Tom Ludlow kisses you, you won’t burst into flames.

You want to take a bath, leave some scent of those seldom used lavender lemon oils lingering on your skin, but decide against it.

No. Actually. You’re doing it. Taking a nice, warm, spiced soak, rubbing lotion over every piece of you except the very sensitive bits, shimmying into the undergarments. The panties end up being cheekier than you like, but your butt looks cute, and the dress covers everything pretty good, anyway—well, everything that matters.

After putting your hair up in a messy bun and throwing some mascara on, you’re ready for—actually, who the fuck are you kidding, you are the opposite of ready. Borderline panicking at the thought of this man coming to pick you up and taking you out and putting on his lewd charm and ruining this cute underwear.

By the time he buzzes downstairs, it’s too late to decide on another pair of shoes. You have to live with sandals—with the fact that he might just look down and get a full, unfiltered view of your toes curling when he opens his pretty mouth.

You’re totally fucked, here.

You think it again when you open the door, finding his lean form all in black, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and his full bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s already thinking about eating you up. You literally feel it as his eyes look you up and down, from your messy bun to your pink painted toes. It’s been two seconds, and already you are soaked between your thighs.

Doomed. You are just fucking doomed, and a part of you is just ready to surrender, because it takes so much goddamn energy to fight your attraction to this man. You can feel it like live electricity crackling over your skin.

Of course, there’s that other part of you that wants to run right back up those stairs and lock yourself away from this gorgeous devil.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but your brain takes a few seconds to catch up, utterly short circuited by how ridiculously handsome he is in his black button down, his dark pants belted low on his hips, those big feet in black boots. It’s a little strange, seeing him without his badge or his gun on his hip–but you can work with this.

“Hi,” you answer, scathingly clever as ever.

“Ready to go?”

You’d brought down your purse, to avoid inviting him into the private sanctuary that is your little shoebox of an apartment, but now you almost regret it.

“Yeah. Where are we going?” You step out the door, but he doesn’t move back, relishing your close proximity with a smirk. But there is a new softness in his brown eyes as he looks down at you that makes you a little weak in your knees. He reaches up to touch your cheek, feather light, and it boggles your mind how this man can be such a beast, and yet so gentle when he wants to be.

“You’ll see.” You narrow your eyes at him, but for once, it’s more playful than fueled by annoyance. “Relax,” he says, his shapely mouth dancing as he suppresses a smile. “You’re in good hands, honey.”

You don’t even flinch, as he drives this final nail into your coffin, the wave of desire inspired by the thought of those oh-so-capable hands and what they just might do to you tonight buzzing down your spine. This is how you die–you are strangely, almost, ok with it.

When he has you safely ensconced in the passenger seat of his sleek black Charger you look over at him, his long arm draped over the wheel as he navigates the hostile environment of LA traffic like a shark patrolling a reef. “So…I saw you on the news last night.”

He lifts one of those dark brows, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. “Haven’t really looked at what they’re saying,” he admits, like he’s used to the media getting the details wrong towards their own ends.

“They said that you saved two underaged girls that were being traffiked?”

His mouth turns down, and you wonder if you’ve killed the happy vibe of the evening so soon with your nosy questions. But then again–you need to know. It’s a gnawing curiosity in your gut not just for the events that transpired, but the man who orchestrated them. Who you are currently alone in a car with, so you reason you have a right to know.

“Yeah,” he simply answers, not keen to crow his own praises.

“And you…killed all those guys?”

He gives a sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his soul. You sense a weariness in him that he’s never shown on the outside before.

“Yeah.” A long silence draws out between you, before he adds, “They were very bad dudes, y/n. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You can’t exactly say that you’re not–but ironically, the news of him shooting down those gangsters really has nothing to do with it.

“I’m not. I mean–if they were abusing those girls, then they deserved it.”

He looks you over then, an appraising look as though you’ve given him some new information about your character. Maybe information you didn’t exactly mean to give away, but it’s out there now. He’s going think you’re a kindred spirit–or a blood thirsty gremlin.

Either way, you don’t really want to discuss why you sympathize with those girls, and with him.

“Are you okay?”

This question seems to take him aback, like he truly wasn’t expecting it. He’s surely used to being a pillar of stoic manhood, but you know this shit takes its toll. “Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart. Thanks.”

You eye his hand resting on the center console, and a part of you very badly wants to reach out to him and take it. Almost as though he can sense it, or maybe because he wants it as badly as you do, he holds out his hand palm up in invitation. It’s possible you stare at that hand for a beat too long, his wide calloused palm and long blunt fingers. Long enough that he tries to play it off, starting to take it back, before you quickly lace your fingers with his. The way he smiles to himself sends warmth blooming all the way to your toes, and you’re glad he’s driving because they do, indeed, curl in your sandals.

You give him a little squeeze, relishing the way your hand feels so tiny and protected in his own, and say, genuinely, “I’m sorry. For calling you a fake cop.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard worse from people that aren’t half as pretty as you.”

You want to fight with him on that—scoff, roll your eyes—but you just can’t, because as much as that small, whiny part of your brain tells you he’s lying, the bigger, rational part absolutely knows just by the sincerity in his tone that he thinks you really are a pretty, sublime creature.

“But I still kinda think you’re a jerk,” you half tease.

“Mmmm, what happened to that feisty little thing I know? She change into a cute sundress and suddenly become sweet?”

You are loathe to admit the real reason for your change of heart.

“You wish.”

He chuckles. “Bet I can make you sweet.”

You’re a total idiot for what comes out of your mouth, and your underwear is the one that will more than likely end up paying for this mindless insolence. “How?”

He brings your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing over the thin skin of your knuckles, sending a spear of desire through your arm and into the rest of your body. You make a tiny choked noise when his tongue peeks a taste of your skin, going unfocused and fuzzy, radio static and full throttle cavewoman.

He kisses the center of your hand, then murmurs, “With sugar, silly girl.”

It's not only the panties that pay a high price, but also your throbbing heart, pleasantly tense and hot and full of desire.

He must find your slack jaw and blank stare immensely entertaining, because he’s laughing low and soft, rumbling in delight.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine.” There has never been a more heinous lie uttered in this entire state.

You’re fairly new to LA, but you soon realize from your surroundings that he’s taking you to the Santa Monica Pier.

You are thanking the universe and the gods when you arrive at your destination. Five more minutes—hell, seconds—trapped in that car with him and you would have climbed into his lap and started barking.

When he swings into a parking space designated just for Law Enforcement you turn to him with a lifted brow, as though to say, Abuse your authority much?

But you already know the answer to that. This date is a product of it. And so far…it’s not so bad.

“Do you like fish tacos?” He asks, keeping your hand and massaging that bulky thumb over your wrist.

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you made a reservation?” you taunt him.

“No reservation,” he informs you with a quirk of his mouth. “But the manager owes me a favor.”

He waves around the busy avenue and beach walk bustling with people, peppered with colorful shops and restaurants of every kind. “Pretty sure we can find you something you like, if Mexican food with an ocean view isn’t your thing…” He says it with a smirk, and you’re seriously not sure if you want to kiss this man or smack him. Maybe both, but save it for later, sings out the little devil on your shoulder before you can tell it to shut the fuck up.

Good lord.

You’ve heard of the restaurant–and that it’s famously hard to get into. You wonder if his connection is a product of a favor for a good deed, or a bit of blackmail. Maybe a little bit of both. You’re finding more and more that it’s hard to put this man in a single box.

“Honestly…?” You make him wait for it, and you can tell your effort to put this confident man on the spot only half succeeds, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds pretty amazing.”

This evil, evil gentleman. He opens your door for you, helps you out of the car, stands patiently while you fix your dress, only half looks at your exposed thighs before you pull the hem down and cover them up again.

Then, he threads his arm with yours and leads you onto the pier. You can’t believe you’ve never taken the initiative to come here before. It’s beautiful, lit up like a modern carnival of neon lights.

“Oh, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Let’s get some food in you, and then we can do whatever you want.” He really needs to stop being so…caring. It’s seriously starting to mess up your insides.

You turn into a fascinated kid as you walk down the salt coated slice of wood built out over the ocean, looking this and that way, pointing things out, mentioning possible after-dinner activities. You feel like you’re getting annoying, but Tom just seems amused by your sunburned tourist behavior.

You pass by a little shooting booth with huge stuffed bunnies hanging from the rack, and he must see the way you’re ogling them, so he leans down close to your ear. “I could win you one of those?”

You grin back up at him. “I can win you one.”

“Oh? Little sharpshooter?”

It sounds like he doesn’t believe you, so you stick your tongue out at him between smiling lips.

He pokes your forehead in retaliation. “Anybody ever tell you how fucking cute you are?”

The restaurant lives up to its popularity and then some. It takes a while to get here, but you just know it’s worth every foot blister when they sit you down and immediately serve a popped bottle of iced sparkling water and delicious, warm salsa and chips.

You made it just in time to catch the purple orange sun sinking below ocean level, and the front row seats really just make the view that much more spectacular. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dolphin jumped from the water, illuminated by the dying sun, just like in the movies.

“This is… amazing.” You grab some tortilla chips to munch on while he pours you both glasses of the fancy water. “Have you ever been here before?”

“Once.” He doesn’t elaborate, so you don’t want to push the issue, but you can tell there’s some kind of ache behind that simple word.

“Okay, so you’re obviously not from LA—where are you from?” He leans over the table a bit, curious.

“Kansas.”

He opens his mouth, but you stop him because you already know what he’s going to say.

“Don’t do it.” You point a warning finger at him, giggling like an idiot.

“God, but I really want to,” he groans.

“So,” you say, taking another bite of chip. “Why did you become a cop?”

“You start with the heavy questions, huh?” he teases you. “Thought I was the one who was trained in interrogation?”

You suppose he’s right, considering your earlier line of inquiry in the car. But you shrug in response. Considering how you ended up here, you see no reason to tiptoe around things. “Just curious.”

He offers up an easy smile, letting you know you didn’t offend him. “Well, I actually always wanted to be a dentist.”

You snort with disbelief, trying to imagine this man’s bedside manner. But then, dentists do get to cause people a lot of pain… “Ok. Maybe that tracks.”

“I’m fucking with you,” he informs you with a smirk.

You do your best to appear annoyed, and fear you fail at it badly. “Guess it’s not hard to imagine you pulling teeth, is all.”

He huffs at that. “I always wanted to be a cop, since I was a kid. My old man was a detective. Killed in the line of duty. I guess I felt like I needed to pick up his unfinished business.”

You blink at that. You and your big fucking mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for his hand across the table. He curls his fingers with yours, playing with your aqua painted fingernails with his thumb.

“It’s alright. Happened a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

You squeeze his hand in yours, saying nothing.

“What about you? What made you want to be a nurse?”

You don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell him your whole coming-of-nurse story, so you give him the cut version: “when I was young and felt like I had no one, a nurse comforted me.”

“How young?”

“Ten.”

He winces. “Maybe I’ll get the full version of that story one day?”

There’s an epiphany, here, in this little restaurant with the comfy blue chairs, and it’s that Tom Ludlow scares you because he makes you feel something deep, deep inside your chest that you can’t even remember being there before he came along. Julian was easy, child’s play; although it stings, you’re writing him down as just another failed fling. You know if Ludlow gets his hands on your little sensitive heart, it will be a very different story.

You take a big drink of water to wash down the salty crunch. “Sorry.”

“For?”

“Being so…cold.”

He chuckles. “Oh, you are so cold. Gonna have to make it up to me.”

Warmth floods the top layers of your skin. “I already said I’d win you the bunny.”

You’re amazed at how easily he can transition back into a smooth, carnal beast. “I don’t know if that’s enough for me to forgive you.” The fake hurt in his tone should not make you squirm in your seat.

You bite like a dumb, good little fish should: “okay, then, how do I make it up to you, Officer Ludlow?”

You’re hoping to faze him with the sultry innocence of your tone, but it just fuels his devilish aura instead. “We can start with me turning you over my knee.”

You don’t have a retort, but your vagina absolutely does, and she gets you squirming in your seat.

He leans forward, knowing smile sure to be your undoing one way or another. “Would you like that?”

“Thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You challenge, trying to keep cool despite the blazing Ludlow heat.

“Who says spanking has to hurt? Dr. Bitch?”

You can’t help the giggle that rolls out of you, and he seems to find it entertaining that you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “No, Tom, believe it or not, I am a grown woman who has lived an experienced life.”

“And how was it?”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“You know, when you asked one of your vanilla boyfriends to swat that gorgeous, plump ass a little bit? Just to see how it would feel.” He leans his chin on his palm, listening intently for your answer, and you think you might be on your way to spontaneous combustion.

How in the fuck can he just hit the nail right on the head like that? Know about parts of your life that you haven’t shared with anyone—not that there were many to share with. Are you really this readable?

Once again, he has your sharp tongue dulled with arousal and embarrassment, and you shift in the chair. “He did it, like, once and then stopped.”

“And did you like it?” He presses.

“Yes.”

He takes a little sip of his water, raising both dark brows over the glass at you. “Good to know.”

Tom recommends the margaritas and fish tacos, so you let him order for the both of you while admiring the view. You can’t decide which one you like better, his handsome face or the ocean scape.

As you are finishing your delicious dinner the last rays of the sunset are putting on a five star show for you, the sky painted that impossible deep blue and purple, the water shimmering like color-changing opals.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you sigh, and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye with a softness you haven’t seen from him before. You get up the courage to meet his eyes, and he smiles at you, but for once not like he intends to eat you.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.”

“Goddammit.”

He laughs at that, a real belly laugh that makes you warm all over even without the aid of your two nursed margaritas. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to out shoot you for that little bunny now.”

This wins you more genuine laughter. “Alright, Annie Oakley. Lead the way.”

#tom ludlow #street kings #tom ludlow x you #excessive force street kings fic #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow x y/n #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #julian mercer x reader #julian mercer x you #keanu reeves x you

60 notes · View notes

thetygre · 1 day

Text

Working on a theory about the origins of the Chaos Gods specifically in Warhammer 40k.

Slaanesh was born from the old aeldari empire; that’s a given. So you can think of Slaanesh as being uniquely aeldari, even if Slaanesh is everyone’s problem now.

Now old, old lore states that the other three Chaos Gods are born from humanity, but this has widely been disregarded and abandoned because it’s clearly a cop-out. The only specific piece of data from this bit of lore is that Nurgle was born from humans during the Black Plague.

I’m actually not 100% opposed to this. I like the idea that Nurgle is uniquely related to humans the same way Slaanesh is related to eldar. Humans, being a naturally short lived race, would produce a Chaos God of death and decay reflecting their existential fears about entropy and the nature of time.

This establishes a pattern in 40k; every species with a major warp signature produces a Chaos God, who will carry on inherent traits of their creator species long after that species has been driven to extinction. Ergo, Tzeentch and Khorne were produced by two other, far more ancient alien cultures.

The only hints we can get about these extinct species come from their Chaos Gods’ Greater Daemons. As the Chaos Gods have no real physical form, their Greater Daemons are the most direct manifestations of their power we can experience, and therefore the only way to see any of their creator species traits. In the same way we can extrapolate an eldar from a Keeper of Secrets and a human from a Great Unclean One, we should be able to extrapolate… something from a Changer of Ways and a Bloodthirster.

This actually leads me to the tzaangor.

(These things. The bird people the Thousand Sons use when they don’t feel like getting their Rubric Marines dirty.)

The tzaangor’s presence in 40k is a leftover; they’re here because they’re in Warhammer Fantasy, and we need to flesh out Tzeentch’s armies, so in they go. Their explanation makes sense in Fantasy - they’re just another type of beastman. But beastmen aren’t really a thing in 40k, or at least they haven’t been for a few editions.

So that gets me thinking about the tzaangor, their similarities to Changers of Ways, and Tzeentch. I don’t think tzaangor in 40k are just some random mutants; I think they’re primitive leftovers of whatever species made Tzeentch. The similarities between the tzaangor and Changer of Ways are too obvious. (Like yes, duh; the tzaangor are derived from the Changers, but bear with me here.)

My theory is that whatever this species was, they were pioneers of the Warp itself. They harnessed it in a way not even the Old Ones had during the War in Heaven. They may even have been the creators of Warp travel, or something like it. They achieved a transcendental, almost godlike amount of power from harnessing the energy of the empyrean.

And then you know how the story goes; more power than mortal beings are meant to know blah blah blah, absolute knowledge is absolute power and absolute power corrupts absolutely yadda yadda yadda, and then the next thing you know Tzeentch has been born. And Tzeentch keeps the leftovers of his creator race around for one of a hundred different reasons; anything can be justified with Tzeentch by it being part of one of his master plans or split personalities.

What’s left now of the tzaangor are Chaos-ridden mutants hustled around by the new power in the universe; humans. They’re still surprisingly intelligent, but comparatively primitive next to their species in its prime. I like to imagine that since the species was so psychically gifted, Tzeentch’s birth wiped their intellects in an instant, like Slaanesh and the Fall of the Eldar. Just a lethal psychic shockwave that decimated billions, Watchmen squid style. It’s taken millennia for the tzaangor to redevelop their current level of intellect, and they live in fear with the constant knowledge that Tzeentch can take it away again at any time.

Now as for Khorne! …I got nothing. I think, by his nature as the god of bloodshed and murder, Khorne completely wiped out his progenitor species. He did not quit halfway through like the other Chaos Gods. The only thing I can assume about them is that, as Khorne is the oldest Chaos God, they were ancient. Maybe even older than the Old Ones and Necrons. If the War in Heaven wasn’t enough to create Khorne, then I’d like to know what was. Like, this was the Cain species; the first species to really get into warfare and unrestrained violence. They might not even have known the Warp existed until Khorne came screaming out of it. And that species is remembered now as the ground floor of the Skull Throne.

Anyway, that’s that screed scooped out of my brain.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #chaos #chaos daemons #chaos space marines #chaos gods #tzeentch #khorne #slaanesh #nurgle #long post

40 notes · View notes

larspinfieldsboyfriend · 3 days

Text

i am not an expert at all. i have no knowledge in medicine. but if garraka’s orb was zero kelvin… lars would have some REALLY bad frostbite from what i’ve looked into.

(tw for burn scars but if you watched the movie you probably saw it)

okay, so here is what lars’ frostbite looks like in the movie. it’s likely that under the bandage he could have 3rd or 4th degree frostbite.

obviously the people working on the movie didn’t think about it as much as i have, but if it was cold enough that om the back of his finger, where we didn’t even see him touch it, and if he did he just touched it a little, it’s likely really really bad under the bandage.

zero kelvin is REALLY cold and much colder than how cold it’s needed to get 3rd-4th degree frostbite.

POINT I AM TRYING TO MAKE HERE IS-

he should not have taken the bandage off that early

he likely would have intense scarring afterwards

i mean at that cold, some people have to have body parts amputated- he DEFINITELY shouldn’t have taken the bandaid off that early

ALSO

in the deleted scenes there is one where when garraka is released from his orb, there’s a news report and we see everyone at the firehouse talking about garraka coming. in this, lars still has bandages on his hand, but not the sling. (he also should’ve had the sling on still imo..)

the same day in canon, when we see him with pukey, he doesn’t have the bandage on. and in another deleted scene, we see him on the ground, unable to get up, covered in pukey’s ectoplasm puke. was it the puke that made him unable to get up, or pain from his hand?

maybe he took the bandage off too early because he had the proton pack and he knew he wanted to try to fight and though the bandage would immobilize him in someway? and that ended up being what immobilized him in the long run when he couldn’t get up 😭😭 (or it’s just a continuity error but i want to make it make sense)

so…

i mean clearly the movie didn’t get some things right, but i know they didn’t care about lars as intensely as i do and probably thought no one would notice or care 😭😭 just have been thinking about this and wanted to make a post!! (yes this is a moment like when people noticed the plate of corn in encanto)

again i’m not an expert!! i’ve done research, but i’ve never had frostbite!! if i’ve had any information incorrect someone please let me know!!

#james acaster #ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield #frozen empire

29 notes · View notes

envysparkler · 8 hours

Text

“Do you really know Wonder Woman?” Jason asked, peering at the trophies that were spread throughout the Cave. There were rows and rows of costumes, Batman and Robin both, and Jason was reminded all over again that Bruce had been doing this for years. Jason didn’t remember a time before Batman, he’d seemed as ubiquitous as the smog that choked the streets right up until he’d slammed a tire iron into the mass of shadows and learned about the human underneath. “I mean, personally? Outside of crime fighting?”

He might’ve believed Batman knew Wonder Woman, but Bruce Wayne had always seemed like a bit of an idiot, and watching him attempt to blearily cut pancakes with a fork and spoon this morning had only confirmed it.

“Yes, Jason,” Bruce sounded amused from all the way over by the Batcomputer. “I know Diana. This is the fifth time you’ve asked me that question, by the way.”

Jason rolled his eyes. So maybe it was, but he wasn’t convinced! “I don’t know, B,” Jason said, wrinkling his nose up at a brilliantly colored peacock of a costume with a high, flared collar and a deep neckline. “I’m still waiting on some proof.”

“Mh-hmm,” Bruce said. “Is that what you came down here for? To pester me into letting you meet Wonder Woman?”

“No!” Jason whirled on him in a tone of deep outrage. That was a secondary goal, he just didn’t want to miss an opportunity. “Alfred said you wanted to see me.”

Bruce blinked, before his face light up with comprehension. “Oh, yes, I nearly forgot! I have something for you.” Jason trotted over to the Batcomputer to watch Bruce rummage through a stack of files. He darted a quick glance at the computer, but whatever Bruce had been working on was closed.

The man hadn’t forbade him from entering the Cave after Jason had Figured Out the Secret—read: caught Bruce dressing the massive bruise across his stomach, which on its own wasn’t suspicious, but with Bruce’s wide-eyed look of guilt and surprise, assembled the pieces together—but Jason didn’t want to test the limits. So far, he only wandered where Bruce let him, even though he was itching to get his hands on those bat-shaped throwing stars.

“Here,” Bruce emerged with an envelope, which Jason took with a healthy degree of wariness. It was Gotham, where ordinary packages meant fear toxin or laughing gas or a hundred other deadly gags. “Go on, open it!”

Jason considered it for another long moment, but decided that Bruce hadn’t rigged it to explode. He opened the envelope and peeked inside.

“This is money,” Jason stated, staring at the cash. The bills all looked like twenties, and there was at least twenty of them in there. Probably closer to five hundred dollars. He looked up at Bruce, who was smiling tentatively at him, and carefully didn’t touch any of the bills. “Uh, what’s this for?”

“It’s an allowance.”

“An allowance?” Jason stared, puzzled at the envelope. He’d heard of allowances—Sandra from next-door-before-he-lived-on-the-streets had gotten ten bucks each week for watching her baby siblings and Ty from the-first-foster-home had gotten some spending cash if he did his chores, but Mom never had the money to spare to pay Jason to help around the house.

Not a problem for a guy as rich as Bruce, but Jason hadn’t done any chores here. Much less five hundred dollars’ worth of chores.

“Is it enough?” Bruce asked, looking concerned. Enough? Enough for what?

Before Jason could open his mouth to respond, the Batcomputer emitted a shrill alert and Bruce’s countenance changed completely, going from an open, soft smile, to something harder and focused.

“I’m sorry, Jason, I have to get this,” Bruce said, not looking away from the screen. “Why don’t you head up for bed? And let me know if you need more.”

Jason knew better than to interrupt him and he headed up the stairs as Bruce began speaking in a low voice to someone who sounded like Commissioner Gordon. He didn’t realize he’d taken the envelope with him until he reached his room.

He set it down on his dresser. Bruce hadn’t told him what he had to do to earn his allowance, and Jason didn’t want to touch it until he confirmed it wasn’t like, shoveling shit or something. He’d ask him tomorrow.

But part of him was still warmed by the gesture. Bruce was treating him like he was his real kid, not like a foster kid only around for a stipend or to look charitable in the eyes of other people. Jason flopped down on his bed and considered, not for the first time, how lucky he was.

He had a huge mansion to live in, and he got to go to a fancy school starting Monday, and he apparently got five hundred dollars just for doing his chores.

#my snippets #bruce&jason #baby jason gets his first allowance #from a billionaire #this is totally not a suspicious amount of cash or anything #deleted scene from paying dues

48 notes · View notes

pomegranatears · 2 days

Text

᭄ꦿ gender neutral, mommy kink, pet play & edging

— I didn't proofread, I was just having fun writing my silly thoughts ᡣ𐭩

Just before they leave after an entire weekend with me, I hold their wrist to stop them. The confused stare flashing across their eyes is so sweet when I slip a small envelope inside their pocket. Be a good puppy and only open it when you get home.

A soft whimper after I pretend I’m going to kiss their lips - but kiss their chin instead - would almost make me drag them back inside. I can barely resist when they behave so needy near me.

But I can’t wait for them to see what’s inside. They have to go.

It’s a bit heavy, and their curiosity sparks the moment they are told they’re not supposed to open it. Their need to obey overcomes it, though. The way I whispered how good they were for me over the weekend is etched in their mind, a memory to visit the next time I’m not with them and they need to take care of the ache between their legs.

And I adore them so much that there’s something inside that envelope that will help!!

The first thing they notice is the polaroid, a picture of my tits that I told them to take. It’s embarrassing how it immediately elicits a reaction, they are my desperate perfect slut and I love it. It’s so good to know I have them wrapped around my fingers like that.

The second thing is a letter, sprayed with my favorite perfume. They recognize it immediately; it’s been wrapped around them for the past two days and still lingers on their shirt from our last hug.

The paper is a handwritten piece of everything I still want to do with them, by the end they are a leaky mess, staining their underwear, and chewing their bottom lip.

In the last line I tell them to make a video call to me, which they are more than eager to do. However, before they do it, they remember the weight of the envelope and soon enough they find a small pendant with my initials engraved.

They immediately know where that's supposed to go, their collar.

I don’t think they would ever forget they belong to me but they look so beautiful with me all over them, bite and lipstick marks included. Not to mention their glistening chin after they are done pleasuring mommy.

They call me and I ask them if they liked the surprise. I don’t quite believe their words when they say yes, they’ll need to show me just how much.

Take off your clothes for me, love. And don't forget to put on your collar.

You are so beautiful, I shouldn’t have let you leave so soon.

Do you still remember how it felt when mommy stood behind you and held you against my chest while my fingers were working to turn you into a whimpering, quivering slut?

I want you to do the same now, let me see you and hear those pretty sounds again. What was it? It feels better when I do it?

I know, baby, but just staring at you feels so good. Keep touching yourself for me.

The pendant hanging from the collar makes small noises every time they buck their hips against their own hand, and I continue cooing praises and telling my darling toy how gorgeous they look all needy for me.

I’m not even there and you are whining urgent “please, please, please”; it’s charmingly pathetic.

Oh, you’ve been such a good puppy! Here, let me show you how wet this little display made mommy.

Wait, wait. Stop.

Their breath hitching and eyes widening only makes me giggle. It’s been lovely, sweetheart, but mommy wants you to stop. Move that hand away. That’s right.

They're a mess, desperate to cum, and still listen to me. Reluctantly, they do exactly what I asked while I watch the rise and fall of their chest, their skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat, and their red bottom lip from how much they bit it trying to be quiet.

What a sight.

Mommy's so proud of my dear puppy. There's no reason to look at me like that, baby. I'm on my way to finish what I started (I'm obsessed with them)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Long post to say that my period affects my mood so I won't be replying so fast and probably won't be very active ᥫ᭡

#i 100% had someone in mind when writing this 💋#gentle fdom #domme mommy #femdxm #mommy k!nk #bd/sm dom #puppy sub #pet pl4y #edging k!nk #sub puppy #soft fem dom #bd/sm mommy

25 notes · View notes

varpusvaras · 1 day

Note

Bail/Breha/Fox - 35. A kiss against a wall

(hi hello yes hi I’m normal just thinking about this I swear it is in no way consuming my mind)

(hello hi yes hello to you too, I'm very normal about all of this as well)

Fox was very used to how high-society parties worked by now.

He had spent three years of his life providing security for a variety of events, familiarising himself with all the different customs and proceedings that went with different occasions. Of course being the security was a different thing to being a guest, but luckily, Fox was a fast learner. He had quite literally been designed to be adaptive and good at memorising even the smallest of details. So, at the very least, social events had not been a problem for him while integrating to living as a civilian and a royal. On top of everything, he didn’t even have to be in armor anymore.

Still, Fox could admit that the night had been rather long, no matter how much more comfortable he was now. At least the more formal proceedings were out of the way now, and the free hours of the evening for mingling and talking with the other guests had started, but even that had been going on for a while now.

At least there were drinks, and his wife and husband.

Fox had spent the start of the night with Bail and Breha. It was pretty much customary, as Fox was a new addition to the family, and thus had to be paraded around a little, so he could meet and greet all the other important people. As the night went on, though, Fox had been more free to find his own company.

It had been rather easy, and Fox had even found a kindred soul. A young new Princess of a Mid-Rim planet, who had just married the Crown Prince of the planet after the war had ended. She and her new husband came from very different circumstances, as she had grown up very poor on Ryloth, and had faced many hardships during the war and even before it. She and Fox came from similar enough situations that they very much understood each other, at least when it came to marrying someone who was much, much more important in the eyes of the Galaxy than you ever were.

So, all in all, Fox’s night was going pretty good, even though he was getting kinda tired and a little…well, bored was not the right word, but close enough.

He glanced towards Breha and Bail. They were talking with other people a small distance away. They looked stunning, as usual. The blue dress Breha was wearing seemed like it had a slight sparkle to it in the lights of the hall, and it made her eyes shine brightly as well. Bail’s suit made him look somehow even more broad from his shoulders than he already was, and the dress pants and boots of said suit made his legs also look somehow even longer than they already were, which was quite a lot.

They had gotten Fox a new suit that went with theirs. They had actually gotten Fox a lot of new clothes, and Fox was very sure that they had enjoyed the whole process of getting them a whole lot more than Fox had, based on the very…intense reactions they seemed to get.

Not that Fox didn’t enjoy it. Quite the opposite.

Bail looked towards him, and caught his eye. There was a quick glint of something sharp in his gaze as he looked at Fox, something that made Fox’s skin instantly a bit warmer underneath his new suit.

Fox watched as Bail leaned to say something to Breha’s ear. She glanced towards Fox as well. Her lips curled up into a smirk for a split second, and she whispered something back to Bail. Bail nodded, straightened up, and made his way towards Fox.

They talked for a moment longer, Bail and the Princess exchanging some pleasantries. Bail was standing very close to Fox the whole time, his hand coming to rest against the small of Fox’s back. Fox could swear that he could feel the warmth of the touch through his suit.

The Princess’s husband came along then, and very soon after, Bail bid them both farewell, and after Fox had managed to say his goodbyes as well, he was led away, through the hall and through one of the smaller archways and down a corridor.

“Are we going somewhere?” Fox asked.

“Just stepping out a little”, Bail answered. “We’ve been here before. I know a nice, calm spot.”

Just then he pushed one door open to another hallway, where the sounds of the party only came as muffled. Fox opened his mouth and was just about to ask if there was a particular reason they wanted to step out for a moment, when Bail’s hand slip up and he grabbed Fox by the arm, his other hand coming up to Fox’s shoulder, and he turned Fox around and pushed him somehow both gently and firmly, until Fox’s back was against the wall of the corridor.

Fox tilted his head up without Bail having to even ask, and Bail, reading him like an open manual, didn’t waste any more time, and dove down and pressed his lips against Fox’s.

This wasn’t the first time they had kissed like this, tucked away to some corner or empty hallway, Fox pressed against the wall so Bail could shield him with his body. It had always been exhilarating, a mix of wonder and nerves coming together.

Now he didn’t have to be nervous anymore, straining to hear if someone was coming. Now he could just enjoy it all to the fullest.

Fox’s mouth was tingling slightly when Bail blacked away just a little. He was looking at Fox with an expression that was very clearly telling that he was wholly enjoying the view in front of him.

“I must admit”, he murmured. “I do find this even more pleasant now, in these improved circumstances.”

Fox snorted a little.

“Improved circumstances, also known as being married?” He asked.

Bail grinned slightly.

“Exactly so”, he said, and then glanced to the side from the corner of his eye. “Your turn now, my love.”

Fox looked to the side as well. Breha was standing there, watching them with a sharp grin of her own on her lips. Fox had not even noticed her there, though that was very much not his fault, as he had been decidedly occupied just now.

“Thank you”, Breha said. Bail grabbed Fox’s arms again and pulled him away from the wall. There was a split second of confusion in Fox’s head, before Bail turned him around yet again and leaned now against the wall himself, pulling Fox to lean against his chest. His other arm dropped down and sneaked around Fox’s waist, keeping him very much in place.

“Do you like the view?” He asked, his voice low, and it sent a shiver down Fox’s back, even though the question had been for Breha. Bail’s other hand came up, and he brushed his knuckles gently down Fox’s jawline.

Breha stepped closer, lifting her own hand up to mirror Bail’s gesture, her hand finally coming to rest against the side of Fox’s face. Fox was sure that she could feel how hot his skin was under her touch, based on the way her grin sharpened more and her eyes lit up in clear delight.

“I do”, she said, and pressed herself against Fox. She tilted Fox’s head down, and reached up, until Fox could feel her breath against his lips. “Very much so.”

She closed the impossibly small gap and pressed her sweet, scorching lips to Fox’s, and Fox very, very much agreed with Bail about the improved circumstances.

#as you can CLEARLY see #I am indeed very normal about them and all of this #very normal uh-huh #how did that one post about ot3's go?#it's people kissing against the wall but sometimes that wall is just another person #I have one more of these coming up for the night and the rest tomorrow #since this kinda. escaped from me. as you can see #I must reiterate that I am very normal about them #sw #tcw #Star Writing #my writing #ficlets #ask games #Commander Fox #Bail Organa #Breha Organa #bail/breha/fox

29 notes · View notes

rweoutofthewoods · 2 days

Note

hey mere! so i just go around to reading tennessee baby and i just wanted to express my … disappointment i guess? don’t get me wrong here i love previous work vm usually u do jeggy so so much justice and i usually have such adoration for your characters but this one is really rubbing me the wrong way as james is essentially grooming reg and its promoting teachers and adults in general abusing their power with children. cause regulus might be of age but he’s still a child in comparison to james and just in general like 17-19 are still children they are teenagers and don’t have a fully developed brain and so the way you’re making it seem as if it’s regulus doing is just WRONG. like i don’t even have other word for it. and yes i get the whole don’t like it don’t read it but… how do you feel comfortable promoting stuff like this in the first place to your audience who previously hasn’t gotten the impression that you’d promote such violence in your fics yk?

anyways, i’m only sending this in hopes that you may have something say about it i guess cause as of right now i’m not sure if i’d even feel comfortable reading anything else you’d write in the future which is just heartbreaking to me as i’ve been following along with you for so long now!

If you have read my writing before then I hope you know that I don’t write anything as black and white. I write things that are purposefully wrong and the characters are supposed to be in the wrong.

This is something I run into a lot that is very frustrating to me because I can’t force anyone to understand my work. But I understand my work.

That is to say I’m not writing Tennessee Baby with the intention of saying any of this is good or alright. I’m not writing it to act like my characters are in the right. I don’t write things to be moral lessons on how a person should act because why should I? I plan my writing, I exist for it, I have thought out every single little detail and exactly what I’m portraying. which as the fic goes on, I think everyone will find is the exact opposite of “promoting violence” or any of this behavior to my audience.

So two things.

1. The fic is incomplete and very early in the story. Their relationship is just beginning and we’ve barely gone anywhere. It’s a bit premature to judge me morally on a story I’ve barely begun and I WILL touch on all the things and I’m not painting my characters as their actions being okay. But it takes time to write a story. You know who thinks regulus in control and at fault for their sexual relationship? REGULUS. In his pov only… maybe think about that and think about all the ways I’ve showed how he IS a kid despite being a legal adult. I know exactly what I’m writing, trust me. I think you don’t, and I can’t blame you bc the fic is so early in the plot, but it would be nice for people to trust me. Bc comments similar to your concerns pop up regarding a lot of my WIPs and I always know exactly what I’m doing and what my intentions are. So it’s a tad frustrating often feeling the need to defend my writing choices when ik if we just wait and read on everything will become clear.

2. I did warn multiple times exactly what the fic would contain and that it is immoral and it’s MEANT to be. None of this is supposed to be acceptable behavior and I have never acted as if it is.

So really I guess I’m a little disappointed in your response. If it’s not your cup of tea that’s fine! Not judging! It isn’t a nice happy unproblematic fic. If u went happy moral fluff there’s a million other fics for you. But this is the writer I am. I always HAVE been. I’ve written multiple cheating fics, I’ve written age gap, I’ve written characters killing people. Does that mean I believe in infidelity, murder, and student teacher relationships? no 😭that’s not how it works, and the things I write don’t morally define me at all. In fact most of my writing teaches a lesson. if you can’t understand that and don’t want to read my work anymore that’s fine, but I hope you consider why people might choose to purposefully write things that are wrong.

#mere answering things ;)#fic: tennessee baby

29 notes · View notes

saturnville · 4 hours

Text

centavito, jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x she (black fem oc/reader) warning: none. just short. content: he wants her back and the chance is small, but he bets on his lucky coin that it'll work in his favor. song reference: centavito by romeo santos. an: it's been over 6 years since I wrote a football-related fic, so please give me some grace lol. and ofc, when I saw that there weren't many jude fics with a black reader/oc, I had slide one in there.

“I learned my lesson and I have been miserable without you. Please…one more chance.”

The coin he twirled in his pocket was warm. His hands had fisted it tightly the entire walk to her front door. When he spoke, he turned it between his index finger and thumb over and over. There was only one way that it could go and that was up. So he hoped.

She heard the voice of her grandmother in her ears as he took in his words. “If he fools you once, that’s on him! But, if he fools you again, he can’t be solely responsible. So, some people do change and I’m not gonna tell you he hasn’t, but it’s up to you to discern that for yourself, baby.”

He didn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t mean, conniving, or deceitful. He simply didn’t appreciate her. When his life turned upside down and he became the wonder boy of the world, he forgot about her. She was pushed into the shadows when he promised she’d always be in the light.

Suddenly, her rants about university exams and assignments weren’t interesting. Her love for the arts wasn’t fascinating. Long nights watching La Casa de Papel in her living room weren’t fun. Their nights in the kitchen trying new recipes were no longer a priority. She was no longer a priority.

So, she left. She slid the promise ring off her middle finger, dropped it on his nightstand, and with tears in her eyes (and her head held high), she gathered her purse and went back to her apartment. She gathered all he’d gifted her and placed it in the box meticulously. Clothes and jerseys, books and letters--all prepared to be put into storage until she figured out where she truly wanted them to go.

And just as she prepared to move the boxes into the storage unit after they’d sat in her bedroom corner for 17 days (yes, she counted), he was on the other side of the door, stopping her in her tracks.

He looked fatigued, which could be credited to being a high-profile professional athlete, or as he put it, “Sleepless nights without you.”

At that moment, he appeared so small. Not physically, per se, but emotionally. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dull and glossy with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Regret?

And when he spoke, he sounded like a chile who was trying not to choke over his words as he fought back tears.

“Jude…” she said quietly, blinking back tears. Her hand was still tight around the door knob. “I don’t know.” She wanted him, sure, but she wasn’t willing to put herself in the position through an even worse heartbreak. But, at the same time, she believed what she’d said.

“I’ll be better for you. I can’t lose you forever. One more chance, darling…please.” She’s never heard him beg in such a way. It made her insides stir.

Her jaw shifted as her eyes darted across his face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. Nothing or the sort. His eyes spoke what his mouth didn’t and it overwhelmed her greatly. I’m sorry, darling.

“You love me?” she questioned after some time, her thick eyebrows furrowing. She wiped away the fallen tear that sped down her cheek.

Jude nodded quickly. “I do. More than you know and more than I’ve shown you.”

Her eyes moved quickly—she was thinking. He continued to fiddle with the coin in his pocket. Except his movements grew quicker as the anticipation grew.

“One chance,” she said after some time. “And you earn it.”

Jude released the breath he was unaware he held and thanked the heavens above. Slowly, she moved out of the way to allow his entrance into her apartment. He closed the door behind him and pulled the coin from his pocket. Heads.

He smiled small. Little cent. The odds were finally in his favor.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jb5 #bellingham x reader

26 notes · View notes

littlelovelyra · 24 hours

Text

I'm with you - Astarion FanFic

Fem tav x Astarion

Tav is a bard

Summary: Unbeknownst to you, Astarion has realised that perhaps his plan is falling apart, you have felt him distancing himself for a few days. You now arrive at last light inn where one night Alfira asks you to perform one of your latest songs. Which leads to you and Astarion alone in your quarters later.

Notes: Ive written this based around a song by vance joy, there will be the use of the lyrics from the song (maybe a few changed lyrics) for the plot of this story, so you will be reading the song lyrics - if you wish to listen to how its meant to be sung, the song is called “Im with you” - I suck at fanfic writing but I day dream a lot and since hearing this song I have had this “encounter” in my head so I like to get it out.

Warnings: Fluff, Oral, PiV, fingering

MINORS DNI

He’s been distant, and you don't know why. You spend your time lost in thought, replaying moments in your mind, searching for what you might have done to push him away. He hasn't sought you out for his daily feeds either, which surely means he must be growing weak. The last time you were alone together was two days after obliterating the Githyanki Creche. You wonder if he's still mad about the blast from that weapon you triggered. But you'd asked him multiple times if he had forgiven you, and he had reassured you that it was in the past. He had even warned you that next time he would be the one to wield the powerful weapon, as if he were more responsible than you.

You arrived at Last Light Inn in what you believe to be the early hours of the morning, though time feels different here. Your companions insisted you take the single room available, with its own bed and privacy. Perhaps they don’t know that Astarion hasn’t visited you for the past three nights…

Three nights ago, you had quietly slipped into his tent for him to feed on you. You remember how gently he laid you down, cradling your head with his arm as he carefully kissed your neck before sinking his teeth in. You can still feel his other hand cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing loving circles around your jaw. His soft moans as he drank you in echoed in your mind. After he had his fill, he placed another tender kiss on your wounds and slowly pulled you into a long, slow kiss that felt earth-shatteringly intimate, something you had never felt from him before. Remembering the feel of his cold hands exploring your body with such tenderness and purpose sends a shiver through you, as if you can still feel his touch. The breathlessness you both shared while tangled together in a night of passion, only to wake up the next morning with him already gone. You wondered if you had imagined the love radiating from him.

But now, there is nothing but silence. Eye contact avoided. Your chest feels as if it has caved in. You don’t know how to repair this, so you do what you know best. You pick up your lute and begin to compose. After what seems like an eternity of trying to collect your thoughts, you compose something that perfectly captures how you feel in this moment. Yet, the heaviness still weighs deeply within you. Sighing to yourself, you set down the paper and your lute and decide to purchase a drink at the bar.

“It’s you!” A familiar voice calls out from across the room. You lift your head to see the friendly face of Alfira, a fellow bard. You meet her smile with one just as wide and pull her into a warm embrace.

“I’m so glad you made it here, Alfira! I hope you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble!” you say, holding her at arm’s length, taking her in. She seems healthy and safe.

“Well, it’s all thanks to you, Tav! I’ve been keeping out of trouble, just working on my music. In fact, I’ve been providing entertainment here for a while. I thought this place needed some nightly music to lift everyone’s spirits… OH! YES! I have the BEST idea!”

You know where this is going, and you don’t like it.

“You need to play here tonight, Tav! Please!” Her eyes are practically sparkling with excitement.

“Look, Alfira, I’m sure nobody wants to hear my stuff. Yours is probably way more interesting.”

“Nonsense.” She looks around the bar and loudly announces, “Who wants to hear Tav tonight instead of me?”

Gale, being Gale, yells in agreement, and the rest of the bar follows suit. You shoot daggers at him, who holds his hands up in surrender, offering an apologetic smile.

“I suppose I can, but one song only, Alfira.” You offer her a small smile. One song—you can handle it. It will be fine.

“Amazing! I heard some music coming from your room before, which is why I came inside. I’d like to hear that one, please! OH, I can’t wait. This is going to be AMAZING!”

Before you can protest the song choice, she gives you a quick hug and exits the building, spreading the news of your performance.

__________________________________

You spent the rest of the day polishing the lyrics of the song, and the time has finally come to head out and wait for Alfira to bring you up on the makeshift stage set in the corner of the room.

“We have an exceptional surprise for you all tonight! Our very own Tav will be performing one of her latest compositions! Please help me in welcoming her up!” Alfira extends her hand out and you sheepishly take it to hop up on the platform. Casting a look around the room you take a moment to compose yourself, this is what you did for a living before all hell broke loose. You can do this… and that’s when you see him lingering in the back, swirling his drink in his hand, his gaze completely fixed on you. You inhale deeply and you begin to play your new song, your stare never leaving his as you sing…

“I saw you standing there, the curls in your hair, the way it came tumbling down, just like a waterfall. And if you need a light I’ll be the match to your candle My Darling I’m ready, to burst into flames for you.”

Holding his stare you see something flicker in those ruby eyes but you continue without faltering.

“I was just coasting till we met. You remind me just how good it can get..

Well I’ve been on fire dreaming of you Tell me you don’t, it feels like you do Looking like that you’ll open some wounds… How does is start and when does it end? I’ve only been here for a moment but I know I want you But is it too soon? To know that I’m with you? There’s nothing I can do”

“There's nothing I won't do to see you shine I'll swing for the fences I'll run to the line And it's high time that you love me 'Cause you do it so well Oh darling, I'm with you There's nothing I won't do…”

You concluded the song, and the entire Last Light Inn erupted in cheers and hollers of approval. It had been a long time since you had experienced such genuine appreciation for your music, and your heart swelled with gratitude. You offered a small bow from the waist and made your way off the platform, shaking a few hands along the way. Alfira had returned to the stage, and the entertainment resumed.

_______________________________________

After a brief conversation with some of your companions, you excuse yourself and head to your room. Placing your lute gently on the table, you begin to prepare for bed, starting to undress. As you stand in your underclothes, a sudden chill envelops you from behind, causing your body to tense. You inhale a familiar scent - bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy - and realize that you are not alone.

"Hello, darling," he breathes into your ear as he places a hand on your bare waist, sending a cold shiver down your spine. You slowly turn to face him, lifting your gaze to meet his. A thousand questions scream in your eyes, and you can tell he clearly sees them.. Before you can even form a sentence his mouth is on yours, with heated desperation his hands moving across the fullness of your body, taking you in, holding you as if he would never hold you again. Your questions vanish and nothing but desire flows through you down to your precious core that is aching with need for him. In an instant he’s guided you to the bed in the corner, placing you down, his kisses never missing a beat as he undresses you. The peaks of your breasts swell with anticipation as he scatters kisses down your neck, across your collarbone and eventually sucks in one of the tender peaks. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his hand moving toward your core.

He finds the bundle of nerves that eagerly await his touch and he begins rubbing slow circles around your clit.

“Astarion.’ You breathe out in a soft moan that sends him trailing kisses down your body until his head is at your very centre. You arch your back in anticipation, your body begging his mouth to find its home.

He lets out a soft growl as he buries his head in you, his tongue expertly delivering long calculated strokes, flicks and swirls. As he feels your body nearing its end he curls two fingers inside you and pumps them in and out while completely devouring you. You feel yourself becoming light headed and your body shaking as the wave comes crashing down. You let out a loud moan as you completely shatter around his face.

Astarion comes back up to you slowly cleaning his fingers off with his mouth while never breaking his stare. He slowly brings his face to yours kissing you deeply and you feel his hardness through his clothes pressing against you. A soft gasp escapes your lips as he undoes his trousers, springing free you feel his hardened flesh on yours.

While never breaking his kiss he slowly eases himself into you, the two of you exhaling the moment he fills and stretches you. He moves in and out in a slow rhythm, one almost matching the composition you had performed earlier. You can feel the passion and heat with every kiss and every pump that fills you.

“Astarion…” you whisper between his kisses, his pace quickens as if a torch had been lit under him, he drives into you harder, faster more desperate and you can feel him reaching his end. You are not even aware that you are doing it, its as if its become instinct, you turn your head exposing your neck, an invitation for him to have complete satisfaction. Without hesitation he sinks in groaning so loud you swore you felt the bed shake. You can feel his body starting to twitch and buckle as he comes undone, you find yourself exploding in ecstasy with him.

The two of you lay there, breathing heavy. All is silent for a moment until his gaze meets yours.

“Why?” You manage to choke out, your throat tightening. You wish you could demand answers, explain your hurt, anything but this pathetic whimpering mess. Your eyes are stinging while you hold back tears, screaming to yourself in your mind that you will NOT cry.

Astarion’s ruby eyes slowly scan your face, understanding flickering through them and his face softens; you think you see a hint of shame there.

“I was afraid,” he whispered softly. “I… I’m not good for you, Tav.”

You look at him and place a hand on his face. “Let me decide what is good for me. Please. It's okay to be afraid… I thought I had done something wrong. I thought… I thought you grew tired of me.”

Pain flickers across his features that vanishes all too quickly and is replaced with a quiet chuckle. “You do everything right, Tav… I cannot fault you on anything. As for growing tired of you? I don’t think I would ever be capable of doing that… ever… and perhaps that’s what scares me the most.”

You understand now. For an immortal, growing close to someone must be a frightening thing. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you could find a way for you to be with him forever.

You keep your thoughts to yourself and softly place a kiss on his lips.

He smiles and whispers, “For the record, Love, I’m with you too.”

#astarion #bg3 tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #tav #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion fic #astarion x you

34 notes · View notes